He's Mine!
by E. J. Morgan
Summary: It is just a simple injury. Nothing serious. And yet, the doctor tells Gibbs his agent didn't make it. How is this possible? The group is grieving but suspicious things keep happening and in the end, it's possible that nothing is what it originally seems to be. Is Tony really dead? What exactly happened? Fornell joins the NCIS team to try to find out the truth.
1. When the Impossible Happens

It had all started with a simply arrest. They had gotten the suspect of a triple homicide without problems, and it should have been a happy ending. Only that is wasn't.

Gibbs still couldn't understand how he'd come to stand here, alone in the middle of the corridor of a run-down hospital, listening to the grim doctor telling him things he couldn't and didn't want to understand.

It had all started so well…

 _ **Two and a half hours ago…**_

" _McGee, David: you take the back. DiNozzo: you're with me."_

 _Three whispered 'yes, boss' answers were heard over the comms while everyone made their way into the appointed direction. There was no room for argument in a situation like that and the team worked like a well-oiled machine together._

" _NCIS! Open the door Mr. Scutberg!" – Called Gibbs as they reached the porch with weapons drawn and held at the ready. – "NCIS, open or we'll use force!"_

 _After a couple of seconds' silence, he wordlessly nodded to Tony who knew instantly what his boss expected of him. With an expertly aimed kick, they were inside. A crack was heard from the direction of the kitchen and the team leader knew the other two members were with them, having their sixes – as they should be._

 _The four of them moved silently and with practiced ease. They only communicated with hand gestures as they searched the house – no need to alert the enemy of their location now. The living room, the kitchen and the bathroom were clear. Gibbs nodded at Ziva to follow him upstairs, while he motioned for McGee and DiNozzo to take a look at the basement. The team separated._

 _The search of the second floor turned out to be as futile as the ground floor's had been and when Ziva whispered 'clear' on her side, Gibbs spoke into his comm again:_

" _McGee? DiNozzo? Do you have something?"_

 _It was the younger agent of the two who answered._

" _No, Boss. I think- Aaaaaaa!"_

 _Gibbs and Ziva both ran towards the stairs throwing caution to the wind, while they called to their teammates. This time, no reaction came. They bolted towards the narrow staircase leading to the basement and desperately tried to see something in the darkness. Why hadn't the other two turned on the lights anyway?_

 _After successfully locating their flashlights, Gibbs and Ziva directed the light towards the farther end of the basement to find-_

" _What the…?"_

 _Ziva couldn't help the chuckle that escaped._

" _You having a party, boys?" – She asked mockingly, seemingly finding the whole situation hilarious._

" _Hehehe, Zivaah. Very funny indeed." – Groaned Tony from his spot on the floor, trying and failing to stand while also keeping the suspect from escaping. – "He was trying to climb out through the window." – He explained, pointing towards a narrow slit far above their heads; it was obviously only meant to serve as some meager source of light during the day and not as an escape route for a fully-grown man. Especially not for someone of Scutberg's build. – "He got stuck."_

 _McGee, who up until now had been sitting slightly dazed a few feet away, finally snapped out of it and together, the two agents hauled the protesting man up._

" _I'll sue all of you! This is my home; it's breaking and entering! I've seen no warrant! You don't have the right…"_

 _Ziva cuffed him while Gibbs shook his head._

" _You have the right to remain silent, Mr. Scutberg. I suggest you make use of it."_

" _This is a scandal! I'm going to…" – They didn't learn what he was going to do, because Ziva led him up the stairs and out of the house before he could make any more threats._

 _The team leader looked at his two remaining agents._

" _Are you two all right?"_

" _Yeah… He fought back and… well. You can see he's a lot heavier than we are." – Explained McGee shyly. – "And the lamp's not working, we couldn't fight and hold a flashlight at the same time, so we couldn't see very well… Anyway. We're all right."_

" _DiNozzo? Are you injured?" – Asked Gibbs, since the other man was unnaturally quiet._

" _Just my pride." – Ignoring his boss' smirk, the senior field agent started to climb the stairs. As soon as he lifted his right leg onto the first step, he let out a little shriek of pain though._

" _Tony?"_

" _DiNozzo?"_

" _Ahm… Boss? I think I might be a bit injured after all…"_

 _Tim shone his flashlight at his partners leg, to find-_

" _Blood! Tony! You're bleeding!"_

" _Oh? Really?" – Trying to see for himself, Tony craned his neck towards his thigh. And sure enough: a fair amount of bright-red blood had already sipped though his designer suit pants, ruining it no doubt for ever. No dry-cleaner would be able to get this out for sure… – "Oh! When did that happen?"_

" _It doesn't seem to be too deep but I believe the wound will require stitches, DiNozzo." – Determined Gibbs. – "Come on, I'll help you up and then I'll take you to the nearest hospital while McGee and Ziva sort out our suspect."_

" _I don't need a hospital! I'm fine! Why can't just Ducky take a look at it?"_

" _Ducky is not here, DiNozzo. Suck it up."_

" _Boss, I-" – But the glare and the accompanying head-slap from his boss silenced all his protests. – "Gotcha, Boss. We're going to the hospital."_

 _ **Now**_

So, they had come in. This was the nearest hospital Gibbs had been able to find; he'd figured it wouldn't matter, they didn't need to specifically go to Bethesda just to get a couple of stitches. No big deal, right? Surely, Tony had been right and they could have waited for Ducky to take care of him, it was just that Gibbs hadn't wanted to take a chance. Not with that boy.

But with what the doctor was saying now… How was this possible?

"I don't understand." – He said for the third time. He sounded like a broken record but he couldn't care less right now. – "What you're saying is impossible."

The doctor, a well-built man in his late forties, sighed tiredly. He seemed to be getting impatient – probably had a hundred other things to do. But still, this conversation couldn't be taken lightly.

"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but it's true: Agent DiNozzo didn't make it. I am very sorry for your loss, sir, I understand he was your teammate and that you were very close."

The team leader shook his head in disbelief, still not ready to accept what the doctor was saying.

"No. It can't be. He only had a small gash on his thigh. He only needed a few stitches. Nobody dies from an injury like that!"

"It was deeper than we originally thought. It bled very quickly and we couldn't stop it. And besides that, he had other injuries as well: bruises and cuts."

"Just small things! Nothing to warrant death!" – Argued the NCIS agent, ignoring the desperate tears that threatened to fall. He just needed to make the doctor see the truth and then everything would be all right. He was sure of that. – "Look: this boy survived the Plague! Do you understand!? He had a 15% chance and he made it!" – Not caring about the doctor's skeptical expression, he continued. – "He was chained to a mass murderer for days that tried to kill him. In the end, Tony ended up killing the murderer. And then one time he was kidnapped and brought underground to die there. He escaped and saved the other hostage as well. He-"

"I get it, Agent Gibbs. Really, I do. But still, the truth is-"

"The truth is that you're mistaken, doctor. There's no way Tony is dead. He wouldn't die without my permission." – Gibbs stated, and for him, this made absolute sense.

"I am so very sorry for your loss. We did out best. Sometimes, it's just not enough."

A small sob escaped from the otherwise always calm and collected man.

"It's not possible."

"Do you need me to call someone? You shouldn't be alone right now."

But the NCIS agent wasn't paying attention anymore. The only thing he could think about right now was the fact that he'd never see his agent again. his friend. His _son_.

" _NO!_ " – He slowly sank to the floor and burst out crying.


	2. Grieving Family

The atmosphere in the bullpen was solemn. Tim and Ziva were sitting at their respective desks, trying very hard not to look at their missing (not _dead_ , never dead) teammate's empty place. They should be writing the report about the capture the night before but they just couldn't bring themselves to do it. How would you put something you don't understand into words?

Meanwhile, Gibbs was in the director's office, telling her everything that had occurred.

"Jethro, I don't understand! You say he wasn't injured that much at all?" – Asked Jenny, still unable to come to term with what she had been told only minutes before.

"He had a bleeding wound on his thigh. Tim said it happened when they pulled the fleeing suspect back. The three of them fell backwards and Tony hit something on the ground. A cutter knife, or something like that. They couldn't be sure in the dark. Admittedly, it wasn't pretty, but it didn't seem to be so serious either, Jenny! I was actually debating with myself for a second whether to bring him to hospital at all, or just let Ducky deal with it! And he said he was fine!"

"Tony could have his head cut off and still say he's fine, Jethro…" – The director gently reminded her former partner. – "But I believe you when you say it didn't look bad. It's not your fault-"

"The hell it's not! I should have called an ambulance instead of driving him myself!"

"I don't think that would have made any difference. With you behind the wheel I expect he even got there sooner rather than later…"

"What if I hurt him further with my driving!?" – That was Gibbs' biggest fear: that he had hurt his 'son' somehow with his actions and cause this tragedy to happen.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"I head slapped him!" – He screamed, hitting the table with his fists. – "Damn it!" – He would like to head slap himself right now. – "What if that was the reason…?"

Jenny just shook her head sadly. While she had actually never approved of this type of disciplinary method and had, in fact, been planning to have a word with the strict team leader about it in the near future, she still couldn't imagine a slap to the head causing a sudden, unexpected death like that.

"What does Ducky say, Jethro? Have you talked to him? Does he have the medical files?"

"The doctor has promised to have the files sent to Ducky via e-mail as soon as possible."

"Good. I hope he and Abby will be able to make more sense of that mess." – She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. – "I can't believe Tony's gone. He was a great agent and an excellent friend. And-"

"The best son one could ask for."

"Yes. The best son."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Half an hour later Jenny and Gibbs walked into Autopsy to find Ducky angrily arguing with someone over the phone and Jimmy standing nearby, seemingly a bit unsure of what to do. He looked as if he had been crying at some point which was not so surprising, considering that he had become good friends with Tony over the years and losing the agent hurt him just as much as his teammates.

Gibbs stepped to him and put a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Palmer, what's going on?" – He asked, referring to the angry ME still engrossed in the conversation. – "Who is Ducky talking with?"

Jimmy cleared his throat.

"The hospital where Tony… ahm… Yeah. The hospital." – He looked lost and childlike.

The director joined them.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The medical report they sent is not worth anything and doesn't help us figure out what happened." – The medical student explained. – "And they are refusing to give us the… you know… Tony's… They insist they will perform the autopsy and we don't have a right to participate."

"WHAT!?"

Just then, Ducky thrust the phone back to its place with a very uncharacteristic curse and covered his face with palms wearily, wanting nothing more than to disappear until this nightmare would be over.

"Doctor Mallard…?" – Jenny asked carefully, causing the ME to jump. Clearly, he hadn't even noticed they had company. – "What happened?"

"Those idiots!" – The doctor exploded. – "I have never ever seen anything like that before! They don't understand why that 'report' they sent to us is not enough! They don't want to give us answers and they are keeping our boy from us!"

"But they can't do that, Doctor!" – Jimmy all but pleaded. – "Can they? What about the… the… funeral?"

"Jethro?"

"Of course they can't do that. We won't let them. Tony has to come home to us. I'll make sure of that!"

With that, he determinedly strode towards the elevator, leaving the other three looking after him.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

\- What do you mean you performed the autopsy and it's already done? Who gave you the right?"

 _\- Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo died in our hospital. It is policy to-_

\- Agent DiNozzo is… was… a federal agent! You should have given him to Bethesda or our own ME! You were not allowed to do anything!

 _\- I told you we'll send a copy of our findings. You'll have it by-_

\- Your reports don't do us any good! The one we already got has left our ME fuming; why should we expect anything better this time around?

 _\- I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but there's nothing more I can say. The autopsy was already done. The report's being written. We'll release the body within three days to you so that you can make arrangements for the funeral._

\- The 'body'? Why, you arrogant-

But the doctor had already disconnected the call, leaving Gibbs standing alone in MTAC, trying to keep himself at least somewhat collected and not lose it completely. They were talking about _his boy_ like a piece of furniture that gets sent from place to place!

But he couldn't allow himself to break. Not now. Not when he had Ziva, Tim and Abby to comfort. While he and Jenny had lost a honorary son, the others (including Palmer) had lost a brother and Ducky something akin to a nephew. And it was just as bad.


	3. Something's Not Right

Two days later, NCIS received a small box labelled 'Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr.' from the hospital with a letter stating it contained the ashes of their beloved agent. Everyone just stared at the little object that had been set innocently on their team leader's desk hurriedly by the courier.

It took a few minutes before Tim finally found his voice.

"Ashes? Boss, did you know he would be…?"

Gibbs found he had a hard time speaking over the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

"No, McGee. I didn't."

"Shouldn't they have asked us first?" – Inquired Ziva, trying to understand. – "In the Us isn't it supposed to be the family's decision?"

"It is. I'll call the doctor right away." – Gibbs said, already halfway up to MTAC.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

 _\- Agent Gibbs! To what do I owe this curtesy call?_

\- Cut the crap, doctor! What the hell is the box we just got!?

 _\- I don't know what 'box' you mean, Agent Gibbs, but the autopsy report and your agent's body should have arrived at NCIS by now._

\- Are you playing games with me?

 _\- Agent Gibbs, I don't have much time, patients are waiting for me; so: what are you talking about?_

\- About the cremation of course! We never asked for it!

 _\- Cremation?_

\- Yes! All we got was a tiny box full of ashes!

 _\- I… ahm… I don't know… Let me check it quickly…_ \- Lots of moving around could be heard from the other side of the line and Gibbs cursed the lack of technology on the hospital's side that meant he couldn't talk with the doctor face to face. Like this, he could only hope the other man was really looking through the papers and not just stalling for time. After a while the very nervous-sounding doctor spoke again. – _I'm very sorry, Agent Gibbs, I really don't know how this happened… There was another young man who died that night and he was to be cremated. It seems like the bodies have been swapped by mistake, because that young man is still here while your agent has been… I'm so sorry._

\- WHAT!? How did that happen!? We were in constant contact, you knew very well we wanted Tony's… Tony. We wanted Tony!

 _\- I'm not the one responsible for that, Agent Gibbs, but I'm really very sorry. So far I know, this has never happened before._

\- Is that supposed to make me feel better? And his family? – Tony didn't have a real family, per se, only his father who probably wouldn't care either way. But the NCIS agent wasn't talking about the boy's biological family anyway. He was talking about his NCIS family. The people who mattered.

 _\- I'm sure-_

\- Are you even sure these ashes are his? That these are… Tony… Are you sure?

 _\- It seems so from the records…_

\- Great. Just great…

Gibbs motioned for the girl at the computer to end the call. There was nothing more he would gain from it now anyway. That incompetent hospital had not only let his boy die, they had even taken away the opportunity from him to arrange a funeral the way he had wanted.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Coming to terms with the happenings would take time. For now, everyone was completely devastated by the turn of events.

"I still can't believe this whole thing happened! Tony was always larger than life. Seemed invincible. He survived the freaking Plague, for God's sake!" – Tim swept all the papers from his desk onto the floor with a sudden angry outburst.

He heaved a frustrated sigh and got up to gather them before their boss would see, but Ziva stopped him with a gently hand on his arm.

"It's okay, Tim. We'll figure this out. Tony would want it…"

"I know he'd want us to pull it together but what if I can't?"

"Yes, you can!"

"I'm not so sure. I've always depended on him being here. Yes, he teased me mercilessly and frequently pulled pranks on me… I could hate him sometimes. But… more importantly: he helped me become the agent I am. He made sure my six was always covered. He let Gibbs take out his anger on him instead of me. He made jokes to lighten the mood when the cases would have gotten too much to handle. He…" – His voice broke. – "He was my brother, Ziva! And now he's gone and I don't know what to do."

"Tim, you're not alone. We're all a family and we'll be here for each other." – Ziva said, but was close to crying herself. – "Have you spoken to Abby since… it happened?"

McGee shook his head sadly.

"I tried but she hasn't come out of her lab and she won't open the door either."

"I'll take care of it." – Said Gibbs who had just come down the stairs from MTAC and headed straight for the elevator. – "You two go eat something. Rest a bit." – He added, just as the elevator's doors closed.

"Ahm… All right, boss… Wow. Ziva: have you ever heard these words from Gibbs before?"

"No. Never…"

"Told you nothing's ever going to be the same again."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Abbs! ABBS!" – Gibbs shouted from where he was standing in front of the locked door, trying to get the mourning Goth's attention over the blaring music. – "Abbs, if you don't open the door right now, I'm going to kick it in! I won't care if it shatters to a million of tiny pieces and you'll have to clean them for hours!" – He threatened when he saw through the glass that the young woman had noticed him but had no intention of letting him inside.

After a while she must have decided the stubborn man wouldn't budge because she gave up and reluctantly opened the door.

As soon as Gibbs came closer to her she threw her arms around his neck and started to sob earnestly.

"Tell me it's not true, Gibbs! Please, tell me Tony is all right!"

"I wish I could say that, Abbs."

He disentangled himself from the hug after about ten minutes and held the young woman at arm's length to ascertain her state. Her eyes were puffy and red from all the crying she had been doing and she looked as if she hadn't slept last night at all.

"I've been up, working all night. I couldn't sleep." – She confirmed his unspoken thoughts and led her boss towards the screen. – "And I was thinking. Something's hinky here, Gibbs."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I reconstructed the injury according to McGee and your reports and-"

"Abbs, how did you get hold of our reports?" – She just gave him a pointed glare and Gibbs shook his head exasperatedly. – "Never mind. Go on."

"So I reconstructed the injuries and while I'm not a doctor, I think it's safe to say Tony couldn't have… died… from those. Not from the cut and blood loss and certainly not from a few bruises."

"Abby, please. I don't think-"

"Look, I made calculations about how much blood a man Tony's age and weight can afford to lose and what could be deathly. And then I checked if the injury everyone described could have bled that much and…" – She pressed a button on her keyboard and on the screen, a diagram appeared. – "… and there's no way Tony lost even a tenth of that amount of blood, Gibbs. I mean that's literally like nothing. Certainly not fatal. Especially not for Tony who has survived much worse! He couldn't die from that!"

"The doctor said he did. That's written in the report."

"In a document Ducky doesn't even deem worthy enough to consider an official medical report." – She reminded him. – "I believe Ducky and Jimmy will have to perform their own autopsy…"

"They can't. Abby: Tony has been cremated."

"What!? But why did you let them do it? It's an ongoing case, his family hasn't even said goodbye! It's completely against the rules! And… it's Tony, Gibbs! Why would you…"

The team leader hung his head.

"They didn't ask me. I didn't know."

"Oh, so you mean Tony mysteriously died from an injury that should be nothing, they send an incomplete file about that and then they also mysteriously cremate him without permission? GIBBS!" – Abby looked pointedly at the boss, letting him come to the conclusion himself.

"You're right. Something's not right here."

"I told you! But the question is: what?"

"I don't know." – He planted a tender kiss on her hair and whispered in her ear: – "But I fully intend to find out and when we find whoever is responsible, there will be hell to pay."


	4. The Investigation Begins

"If they did it to conceal evidence, they have reached their goal, Jethro." – Said Ducky the next day when Gibbs had told him about Abby's theory. – "There's no way for us to find anything now. Not without a body…"

"Agent Gibbs, are we possibly talking about… murder… here?" – Asked a horrified Jimmy, having been present for the whole conversation.

"I don't know Palmer. Duck, is DNA testing possible on ashes?"

"What…? Jethro, you don't think…? Do you believe…? Oh my God!"

"I don't believe anything for now, Ducky. So, can you do it?"

"Well… Mr. Palmer?"

"Ahm…" – The young medical student seemed a bit surprised about being asked but quickly recovered and recited what he had studied on the topic: - "Well, after cremation, residue of bones and teeth stay behind. Everything else turns into actual ash and is useless for testing… But the bones and teeth get pulverized, and are added to the remains. So-"

"So is it possible?"

"Sorry… Yes, it is possible, although the chances are not very good. The extreme heat used for cremation can destroy all the DNA but occasionally, it's possible to extract some usable samples and-"

"Mr. Palmer?"

"Ahm… I think Abby might be able to do it." – He concluded, blushing slightly. He knew he'd have to learn to lose the jargon when talking to laymen. Especially as impatient ones as Agent Gibbs even on his best days, let alone in a situation like that.

"Then do it." – Said Gibbs simply and turned to leave.

Ducky, however, quickly caught up to him and together, they stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Gibbs pushed the emergency button to stop all movements. As the lights dimmed, he turned to his longtime friend expectantly.

"Jethro… you do know this is a long shot, right?" – The team leader only rolled his eyes. – "No, I mean it! Listen: I can practically see the wheels turning in your head and know that you're starting to hope for a miracle. But for now we have absolutely nothing that would indicate that young Anthony is still alive."

"Duck…"

"I just don't want you to suffer twice, Jethro. One time is horrible enough."

"Tell me about it."

"But you're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Gibbs gave his friend a patented 'what do you think'-stare.

"Nope."

"Then I'll do everything in my power to help you."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Every team member was standing in Abby's lab, awaiting the results of the DNA test. It was difficult to say what exactly they were hoping for but the anticipation could literally be felt in the air.

Finally, a loud 'ping' signaled the testing had been completed. In a few seconds, they could know for sure if it was their boy in that little box…

Jimmy fidgeted nervously next to a concerned-looking Ducky. The old ME himself eyed his younger friends carefully, hoping to God they wouldn't be disappointed again. Tim and Ziva stood side by side, next to Abby who held their hands in each of hers in a death grip. Jenny and Gibbs were a bit farther away, along with Fornell who had turned up a few hours ago, claiming to have heard what was going on and offering his help in anything they needed, claiming: 'DiNutso deserves better than us just giving up on him'.

Agonizingly slowly, numbers and diagrams appeared on the screen. Abby, Jimmy and Ducky stepped closer to study it while the others, who had no hope to understand anything, held their breaths.

After a few seconds of staring at the stats, Abby burst out in hysterical crying.

"Abbs?" – Gibbs whispered, edging towards her carefully as if he were nearing to a cornered, frightened animal. – "Is it him? Are these… remains… Tony's?"

She looked up when he was right next to her and he could see that Abby was actually smiling.

"I can say with a 100% certainty that these remains don't belong to Tony." – She said, eyes sparkling with tears. – "As a matter of fact, these are not human remains at all."

Tim felt confused.

"What are these then?"

It was Ducky who answered with a smile.

"Some kind of small animal, like a rat or a smaller cat, Timothy. And sand. Lots of coarse sand. It was done very thoroughly, that's for sure. Looking at it, it looks like human remains. But it's far from it."

"It's not Tony, Gibbs. That means he's probably alive." – She hugged the team leader with all the force she could muster.

Ziva and Tim hugged as well, Jimmy and Ducky high-fived, while Fornell turned to Jenny:

"But if it's not DiNutso, then why does the hospital want you to think he's dead?"

"That's a good question, Tobias… And also: where the hell is Tony then?"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Of course, just because the ashes didn't belong to Tony (and thank God for that!), they couldn't actually be sure he was alive. Well, they shouldn't be sure. But from that point on, everyone thought of him as 'missing' and not 'deceased'. And everyone was doing their best to find him.

"He would have made contact if he could, so we have to assume he's held captive somewhere." – Remarked Jenny while she was perched on a makeshift stool and watching Gibbs rhythmically sand his boat in his basement after a long, and again unproductive day of looking for his missing agent. – "I mean, he wouldn't deliberately do this to us."

Gibbs blew at the fine dust that gathered on the wood before taking a deep breath.

"No, he wouldn't. Tony can pull pranks, sometimes even borderline cruel ones but… he wouldn't go this far."

"I hate to think about what he could be going through right now…" – The director shuddered. – "What if he's hungry or cold? What if they're torturing him? What if-"

"Jenny! Don't. Please." – Of course Gibbs had these same questions running around in his head nonstop, his mind creating the most terrible scenarios for how his boy could be suffering. But saying it out aloud was even worse. It made it real.

Jenny, on the other hand, was frustrated. She didn't think that not talking about it did any of them any good. She saw how Abby was silently crying every day. She saw Ziva and McGee's faces each morning when they realized one desk would remain empty again. Even Ducky and Palmer weren't their usual talkative selves. Nothing was the same; everyone was worried out of their minds. So, why couldn't they share their thoughts, talk about it so that maybe, just maybe, they could reassure each other and feel somewhat better afterwards?

"Do you think we'll find him alive?"

"Yes. We will." – Answered Gibbs with more confidence than he really felt. Honestly, he had no idea if they even still had a chance. It had been over two weeks already… Sadly, he knew the statistics.

"Jethro… I'm…"

"I know. Me too."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Fornell strolled into the bullpen and walked straight up to Gibbs' desk.

"I have the doctor in custody." – He stated simply. – "I assume you'd like to be there when I question him?"

"I want to be the one questioning him!"

"Forget it, Jethro. You're too close to this whole thing. We don't want the court to dismiss any evidence we gather because there's a conflict of interest, right?"

"He's right, Boss. You know judges take this very seriously…" – McGee added, nervously looking around. – "Agent Fornell, maybe none of us should be there at all…"

"Nonsense, my boy. Jethro will be behind a one way mirror; nobody will know about it. He knows this case is FBI jurisdiction. Don't you, Jethro?" -Gibbs just muttered something unintelligible which the senior FBI agent chose to take as agreement. He clapped his hands enthusiastically. – "Very well then. So. May we go?"

"You bet."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

As agreed, Gibbs stood hidden behind the mirror in FBI's interrogation room. Begrudgingly, he'd had to agree: his presence would just worsen things for the future, should they find something out. It didn't mean he was happy about being sidelined. This was about his boy, after all, he should be the one doing the questioning!

Though, admittedly, his old friend Tobias was doing a fine job.

"Doctor Hill, if I understand correctly, it was during your shift when Agent DiNozzo was admitted with an injury?"

Gibbs involuntarily cringed. There was something not right about hearing Tobias pronounce his boy's name normally, not in the teasing way he usually did. This showed how grave the situation really was.

"Yes."

"Do you remember what kind of injury he had?"

"How could I forget, Agent Fornell? Ever since that day, my life has been made a living hell by Agent DiNozzo's boss! And now I'm here, being interrogated like a criminal!"

If the man had expected any sympathy from the agent then he had to be sadly disappointed now. If anything, Fornell looked proud at Gibbs' actions rather than horrified.

"Doctor Hill, would you please just answer my question? What kind of injury did Agent DiNozzo have?"

"Sorry. Yes, of course I remember: Agent DiNozzo was brought into the ER by his boss at around 4:15 AM on September 23rd this year with an approximately 5-inch long and 1.2-inch deep cut in his sartorius muscle – in the thigh, with layman's expression. It was obviously inflicted by a very sharp object, like a knife or some kind of cutter."

Tobias visibly shuddered and Gibbs felt somewhat sick.

"How soon did he get treatment? Did he have to wait long?"

The doctor suddenly jumped up and started to pace.

"With that boss of his? I was summoned as soon as they arrived by car. They didn't call an ambulance but drove there by themselves, I might add. We didn't get any heads up, they just appeared out of nowhere, and Agent Gibbs frightened the receptionist to tears with his insistence that 'his boy' get medical attention immediately."

Ouch. Tobias was much more patient than Gibbs would have been at an outburst like that; he just continued as if nothing had happened.

"Sit down. So: was there reason to worry?"

The other man sank onto the chair again and sighed.

"Admittedly: yes. By the time I started working on Agent DiNozzo, he had lost so much blood that the first thing I had to worry about was to start to replace it."

"So, you didn't start stitching the gash right away?"

The doctor snorted rather arrogantly at that.

"Agent Fornell, you clearly don't have any medical knowledge. One: no, I didn't 'start stitching' right away, because that's not what I had to do first. Second: I didn't 'waste time' by administering an IV; I had a nurse do it."

"So, would you be kind enough to explain to me; in a way that I, with no medical knowledge as you put it, will understand as well; what you did to help Agent DiNozzo?"

"Certainly, though I sent the medical report to the address Agent Gibbs had given and I believe it was read by a medical examiner…" – Upon seeing Fornell's glare, he chose to answer. – "Anyway: first and foremost, I needed to clean the cut and the surrounding area to make sure there wouldn't be any infections later. Because infections can be even worse than the initial injury. I had to make sure there's no dirt, foreign objects or remaining shards. Any dead tissue needs to be removed, so that's the next step. And then, only then, can I 'stitch' the wound."

"I see… And when was the point you realized Agent DiNozzo couldn't be saved? That it was already too late?"

Gibbs felt his legs becoming too weak to keep him upright and he quickly grabbed the nearest wall for support.

"When I couldn't clean the area without his blood flowing through my hand again and again, despite all our combined efforts to halt it. By that time there were two doctors and two nurses working on him, but he was bleeding much more than a person normally would. Much quicker than how we could give him the replacement."

"And what did you do then?"

"I continued, working as fast as possible. You can't just leave out stages; not even in a situation like that. The patient can either survive or not, but I have to follow the procedure. When it became obvious that Agent DiNozzo couldn't be saved, I, as the senior physician in the room, called the time of death and went to find Agent Gibbs to tell him the news."

The NCIS agent in the adjoining room lost all battle with gravity and weakly sank to the floor in a heap of misery.

"Doctor: would you proceed the same way even now?"

"Yes, I would."

"Would you be willing to defend your actions before the court?"

"If needed: of course."

"I'll be back later with more questions." – With that, Fornell stood and headed to find his friend. He felt sick to the stomach at imagining the kid go through that… He could only guess how his friend must feel after listening to the interrogation about his boy's 'death'.


	5. More Questions Than Answers

"Jethro? Jethro!" – Fornell ran to his friend and checked to make sure he was alright and not about to do something stupid. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if the man did something to himself. DiNozzo was like a son to Leroy Jethro Gibbs and not knowing whether he lived or died was taking its toll on the man. – "How are you?"

"I'm all right." – Muttered the NCIS agent as he agonizingly slowly got up and staggered closer to his colleague. If Fornell didn't know any better, he'd think the man was drunk. – "Tony wasn't bleeding that much, Tobias! I know he wasn't. I was there with him until they whisked him away. He was relatively fine, just a bit dizzy maybe."

"Yes, I know. Do you think the doctor is lying or does he really believe what he's saying?"

Gibbs thought for a moment, replaying the conversation he had just listened to in his head, paying attention to the doctor's facial expressions and stance during the interrogation.

"I think he honestly believes he did all he could as a doctor; that he made no medical mistake with Tony. But I also think he knows more about this whole situation than he's telling us."

"How do you suggest we proceed? I don't understand half of the medical stuff he's saying."

"For now, let's just concentrate on what happened after… Well, you know: AFTER."

"Very well. Will you be all right if I go back in?"

"Sure, go on."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"So, doctor." – Fornell took his chair again and continued as if there hadn't been any interruption. – "You seem sure you didn't make any medical mistakes."

"That's right."

"Okay, then. What about the procedure that followed the pronunciation of death?"

Here, the man started fidgeting a bit, but tried to hide his nervousness.

"What about it?"

"I'd like to know how it works."

"Ahm… Well: when a patient dies on the table, all the staff present verifies the fact and time of death. It goes into the record and from there, to the report. It's important for medical and legal reasons, obviously."

"So, you announced the TOD?"

"Yes, and Nurse Hamilton who was in charge for keeping the record, wrote it down. We all signed it."

"I see. And then?"

"Then I went to inform Agent Gibbs because he was the one who had brought the young man to us and also because he was his medical proxy. We checked. We can't give information to just anyone, you know."

"Was anyone else there for DiNuts—I mean Agent DiNozzo?"

"No, just Agent Gibbs. At least I didn't see anyone else and only talked to him. Obviously, I didn't check the whole waiting room, the cafeteria, all the corridors-"

"All right. And after that?"

"Well, after that, it's not my task anymore. The staff prepares the body according to the situation; meaning if it can be handed over to the appointed funeral home immediately, or if autopsy is needed, then for them."

"And with Agent DiNozzo, autopsy was required?"

The doctor nodded, but the cold sweat running down his forehead betrayed his pretended confidence.

"Yes, it was decided we should look into what happened because indeed: he shouldn't have bled so much out of a wound like that. When the circumstances of the death or the injuries are not perfectly clear, an autopsy has to be performed to rule out any foul play."

"Who performed the autopsy, doctor?"

"The hospital's own ME, which, if you have the files, you should know. He signed the report after all. Doctor Flemming. You should talk to him. From this point on, he could give you more accurate answers."

"Oh, don't worry: we're planning on talking to him too. But I hope you don't mind if we'll just continue for now here."

The expression on the doctor's face revealed that he did indeed mind; not that he had much of a choice. It was obvious he'd like to be anywhere but in the interrogation room with the angry FBI agent. But since he couldn't do anything about it, he took a deep breath and braced himself what he knew was to come.

He didn't have to wait for long.

"So, doctor." – Began Fornell. – "I'd like to talk about what was found during the autopsy. Do you have an explanation for how and why he died from a wound that shouldn't be fatal to begin with?"

The doctor visibly started to sweat.

"As I said, I wasn't the one performing the autopsy… I work in the ER, Agent Fornell."

"But, I believe, you must have seen the report, since you were the one who sent it to Doctor Mallard."

"Yeah, well. Yes. Of course, I saw it. Obviously, Agent DiNozzo bled out."

"Yes, you have said that already. What I want to know now is: how?"

"Ahm… I don't know? I mean, you're right, he shouldn't have bled that much. My only guess is that he must have a condition called Von Willebrand disease. It means the blood can't clot properly and the bleeding can't be stopped. With that condition, a wound like the one Agent DiNozzo had can be fatal."

"Excuse me, but isn't that a condition his colleagues would have been aware of before? I mean, Agent DiNozzo had been working as a police officer and then an agent for years before this… accident. He had been shot, stabbed and scraped quite a few times, and never had any problems. Would this… whatever it's called disease develop just out of nowhere in an adult?"

"Oh, well… it's not common but I guess it could happen…"

"You _guess_?"

The doctor sighed frustratedly.

"Agent Fornell, I'm sorry but I'm not an expert of the Von Willebrand disease. Some people never even learn they have it until late in their lives. I do not know what kind of injuries Agent DiNozzo had before this one, so I can't tell if it's possible he had the disease despite it not being noticed before, or if it had newly developed. I am, as I have already told you, an ER doctor. I get dozens of cases during a shift, the most diverse ones, and I have to do my best all the time but sometimes, sadly, it's just not enough. It's not up to me to diagnose a patient with permanent conditions like that and certainly not my job to come up with a long-term treatment. My job is to try to keep them alive until a specialist can take over. I really don't know what you want me to say, just because I'm a doctor, I don't know everything. I also couldn't treat your cavities or place in a pacemaker."

Fornell turned around and looked into the mirror where he knew his friend was standing on the other side, listening to everything and anxiously awaiting answers. The problem was: the doctor was actually right. He didn't have to know everything and also, Fornell didn't possess enough medical knowledge to ask the right questions. If this case ever came to court, they'd most definitely have to involve medical experts even to be able to talk things over properly.

One heartbreaking thought suddenly occurred to the senior FBI agent: there was a slight chance that what the doctor had said was right, and DiNutso really had died that day…


	6. Won't Give Up On Him!

"Come on, Tobias, you can't believe that man! It's obvious he's lying! Just look at how uncomfortable he is!" – Shouted Gibbs as soon as the FBI agent had told him about his worry. – "Even the blind can see something's not right with his statement!"

"I can see that, Jethro! I just don't know _what_! It's entirely possible the hospital made mistakes and that's what he's trying to cover up. This doesn't necessarily mean there's a global conspiracy going on to kidnap your boy and keep him from you!" – Fornell was frustrated. He liked DiNutso and wanted to believe he was alive but so far, there was nothing tangible to support his friend's theory.

"Let me talk to him."

"No."

"Tobias-"

"I said: no. You want this case to stick, right? Let's not ruin it now. I'm going back and you're staying here."

With that, he stormed out the door just to emerge on the other side of the one-way mirror seconds later. Sitting down on the chair in front of their witness, he said:

"So, doctor, one more question for you: how is it possible Agent DiNozzo was cremated without permission?"

The doctor paled and inhaled sharply. This was going to be interesting.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"How could you let him get away with that answer, Tobias!? It's just as useless as everything else we've had from the hospital so far!" – Bellowed Gibbs immediately after Fornell had concluded the interview and released the doctor without pressing charges. – "Seriously? 'That was an administrative mistake I have nothing to do with'? Tobias!"

"Jethro—"

"That's all? We get a box full of ashes that are not even human, we are told that Tony died and has been cremated and that there's nothing we can do, and you just LET HIM GO with a warm goodbye and a handshake?"

"Listen to me-"

"Whose side are you on anyway?"

Instantly, Fornell felt his blood pressure rise as his face turned red from anger.

"Are you really, honestly asking me that, Jethro?"

By now, Gibbs had realized what he had said too.

"I…I'm sorry. It's just… It's Tony."

Fornell sighed and motioned for his friend to follow him towards the vending machines. It was way past their usual worktime and they hadn't had anything to eat since the early morning breakfast. Both were hungry, tired and extremely grumpy.

"I know that. We're doing all we can though. This doctor is not the target here, Jethro. We need to find the one who really knows what's going on."

"This doctor knows more than he's saying."

"I realized that. Ahm… Do you have a dollar? Thanks." – Feeding the bill into the machine, he pushed the button for his favorite chocolate bar. – "I also think he doesn't know _everything_ , just pieces of the truth. And he seems afraid. If we push him too much now, it could cause problems later."

Gibbs dismissed the proffered chocolate bar with a wave, opting to go straight with the coffee from the other machine instead.

"Later!? I don't want there to be any 'later'. I want Tony back! Now!" – He said while he waited for the dark liquid to pour out.

"I know that… Look… khm… shouldn't we get some sandwiches or something? I'm still starving…" – The glare from his friend was enough to push him back on track right away. – "Sorry. Listen to me: as I and all the others here have promised, we'll do everything in our power to find out the truth. The truth that may not necessarily be what you so desperately wish for… Do you understand that, Jethro? Please, say that you do know we don't have solid proof yet that DiNutso is alive… Say that you haven't completely convinced yourself…"

"I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were. I'm just worried, that's all." – The FBI agent pointed out. – "You're not even touching your coffee. That's because it's so horrible, isn't it? Nobody in their right mind uses these vending machines. Let's go to the café shop; it should still be open at that time."

"You only want to eat."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. You're right. Let's go."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Hmmm…. that's delicious!" – And to give his statement more creditability, Fornell took an enormous bite of the roasted chicken breast he had ordered to go with an enormous pile of potatoes.

"I'm glad you like it." – Gibbs said a bit sarcastically, although he himself was attacking a huge plateful of chicken casserole vigorously and seemed quite satisfied with it.

"Jstlkdns-"

"What?"

The FBI agent audibly gulped and took a big sip of his water before trying again.

"I said it is just like Diane's cooking. All her faults aside, you have to admit she is one hell of a cook. When she can be persuaded to do it. Which is not often but-"

"I hope we're not here to talk about Diane."

"No, sorry." – The conversation was turning serious again, so both men set their silverware down, their focus suddenly on the pressing topic. – "So, tomorrow, I'll have the ME brought in. The one who did the autopsy on Tony and the one who, according to the papers, is responsible for the 'cremation'."

"I want to wring his neck!"

"Which is exactly why _I'm_ going to talk to him again. We want answers and not a bloodbath, and we certainly don't want you to end up in jail." – The NCIS team leader just snorted. – "All right then _I_ don't want a bloodbath!"

"More like it. But you know what? I don't care either way. I just want Tony back."

"Jethro, we talked about it… Luckily, it's FBI jurisdiction anyway, since the crime involves a possible assault on a federal agent. I have nightmares just thinking about what you'd do if you had to handle this alone."

"I know, Tobias! It's just… Shit. I never wanted anything else but to see the kid healthy and happy. You know? Just for him to have a long, complete life that he's satisfied with. A job he loves, with people who are family. Our family. Is that so much to ask for?"

The FBI agent maneuvered a few pieces of potato onto his fork but didn't eat it. He was deep in thoughts, trying to come up with something that would make his friend feel better.

"No, it's not too much. It's just what any father would want for his child. Just what I want for Emily."

Gibbs smiled in spite of himself.

"No matter if they're a pain in the ass. It doesn't even matter what they do or how they live. As long as they're healthy and happy."

"Amen to that."

"So then why can't I get this simple wish granted? Why do I have to lose it a second time too? Wasn't it bad enough when it happened first? Why, Tobias? Tell me!"

"I don't know… I'm so sorry."

Gibbs pulled some bills from his pocket and dropped them onto the table. He stood, ready to go.

"We musn't give up. I won't. Tony could be alive and needing our help. If he is, then he's counting on us to find him. He knows I'd never leave anyone behind and especially not him. I promised to always have his six. I won't give up on him until we'll know for sure there's no more hope!"

Tobias followed suit, finishing the last bites and standing himself.

"Then let's go and continue working. We have a kid to find."


	7. Conspiracy Theory

"So, Doctor… ahm…" – The FBI agent scanned the file in front of him. – "Willow, is it?"

"You know very well who I am, agent, so why don't we just get to the point? I have work to do."

Fornell glared at the arrogant man who seemed entirely too young to be a doctor and also too full of himself.

"Fine, Doctor Willow, let's begin then. So: Agent DiNozzo. What do you remember?"

"He's the dude who bled out on the table, right? What about him?"

Now the agent was positively snarling, showing his teeth and even growling to accompany it.

"I want to know what you did, Doctor! According to the files, you did the autopsy. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is. So what?"

"Your findings?"

"That's all in the report as well."

"Just tell me. NOW!"

The man held up his hands in a mock-placating manner.

"All right, man. All right. Well, I cut up his chest-"

"Your medical opinion, not the process!"

"Oh. You should have said so in the beginning. Okay: he was a 35-year-old male of average height and weight. He was healthy, aside from the obvious..."

"Did you find out why he bled so much from a wound that shouldn't be fatal for someone his age and built?"

"Ahm… yes. As Doctor Hill had suspected: Von Willebrand disease. The lab confirmed it using the samples I got to them, not me, of course. I just cut up the corpses-"

"Is it possible that it hadn't been known before? If someone has a condition like that, shouldn't they know about it?"

"Not if he didn't have such injuries before, then not. It doesn't hurt, there are no signs. Not any he would notice, at least."

"I want to know more about this disease."

"It's the most common hereditary blood-clotting disorder. There can be signs like easy bruising, nosebleeds, and bleeding gums. By women, heavy menstrual periods and blood loss during childbirth, which could not be the case by Mister DiNozzo."

"Agent."

"What?"

"AGENT DiNozzo."

"Oh. Okay."

"So, if it's hereditary, shouldn't we see signs of it by his parents as well?"

"Not necessarily. You can inherit is from so called 'unaffected carriers' as well. You may never know that you carry it. It could be anyone."

"Very well. So, you say that was the reason he died."

"Exactly."

"And otherwise, he was healthy?"

"Absolutely."

"I want to talk about the cremation now. How did that happen? It wasn't requested by family, that's for sure. Doctor Hill thinks it was a mistake. _Your_ mistake."

The man averted his eyes, suddenly finding the floor quite interesting.

"Ahm… Yes. Yes, it was my fault…"

"What happened?"

"Mixed body bags… Wrong label… There was another man who died that day and I performed autopsy on him as well. When I finished on both, I closed the bags, labelled them… Mixed it up…" – He swallowed nervously. – "It was after a very long and tiring day! My assistant was on vacation and I had to do everything alone! I was spent!" – He defended himself vehemently. – "Wasn't on purpose and I've been officially reprimanded for it. What else do you want?"

Fornell sighed, feeling defeated.

"Nothing, Doctor Willow. I expect absolutely nothing of you."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Fornell had, quite honestly, expected Gibbs to be a wreck. Hearing someone talk about 'cutting up the corpse' of his favorite agent surely must have hurt horribly. When he entered the other room though, he found an excited, almost happy NCIS team leader impatiently pacing, while he waited for the interview to finish.

"Tobias, that man never even _saw_ Tony!"

Ah, well. That was unexpected…

"Huh? How do you know that?"

Gibbs huffed in irritation, clearly he had thought his friend would see his point too.

"Come on, didn't you pay attention!? 'Otherwise healthy'? No mention of his plague-scarred lunges? Any ME would have found it interesting enough to write and talk about those scars, that's for sure! I mean, how often do they encounter someone who has survived the Plague!?"

"Are you sure about that? Were there really scars to see?"

"Are you kidding me!? Kid nearly died that time! I mean: really! Even when it became clear he'd live, the doctor wasn't sure he'd ever be able to live a normal life. Let alone work. His lungs are a mess." – He shook his head sadly. – "Every time he so much as sneezes, we all panic. The smallest cold could still kill him according to Doctor Pitt and Ducky." – He looked up into his friend's eyes. – "But now that makes it official: whatever happened to Tony, he was never brought into autopsy. He must have been taken straight from the ER."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

The blaring music filled the lab, making it almost impossible for anyone to hear their own thoughts. Gibbs considered asking Abby to turn it down a bit but then decided against it. She had been depressed for far too long, and just seeing her bouncing around in her usual Abby-manner was worth losing his hearing over it for a while.

He went to her and planted a kiss on her cheek, placing a huge cup of Caf-Pow on the table for later.

"Did you find something?" – He shouted, trying to be heard. Abby just smiled at him cheekily. Gibbs sighed and repeated the question using sign language.

The lab tech, apparently satisfied, turned down the volume a bit.

"You bet I did!" – She clapped her hands excitedly. – "Small pebbles and sand."

"Excuse me?"

"Pebbles and sand, Gibbs! In an ER room!?" – She shook her head. – "It's evident they tried to clean it up. They even used disinfectants. That's not surprising, I mean, this _is_ an emergency room, and we only got there like _ages_ after it happened…" – She wildly gesticulated to explain how long it really had been. – "But still, they didn't quite manage to make everything disappear. Someone was in that room who wasn't wearing sterile clothing."

"Well… What about the patients? I doubt they wear sterile…"

Abby had the audacity to roll her eyes.

"I also doubt they walk around the room, Gibbs."

"So, someone walked around in there?"

"Yes. Better yet: at least three someone."

"Do we know what this was? Can you ascertain a time?"

She sighed.

"Obviously, that's a bit more tricky. I do know it was not fresh though. And according to Major Mass Spec, this kind of combination of pebbles and sand are typical for… well… lots of places in the US, but one of them stands out."

She stopped for dramatic effect, until Gibbs couldn't take it anymore, and rolling his eyes, he asked:

"Well?"

The Goth laughed and imitated drumming on the table as she pressed a button on the computer to bring up an image to the screen.

"Taadaam! Langley, Virginia"

Gibbs stared with wide eyes at the picture.

"The CIA Headquarters. Good job, Abbs."

With a last kiss to a smiling Abby, he left the lab. He had work to do. He was already getting into the elevator when he heard the lab tech's voice calling after him:

"You bring him back, Gibbs!"

As the elevator doors closed, he silently vowed to do just that.


	8. We'll Get Him Back!

"The CIA? Jethro… Why would they? I don't understand…" – Now it was Fornell's turn to gulp nervously, not quite able to believe his long-time friend's words. – "I mean… come on! They're agents, just like us. Colleagues. Surely they wouldn't…"

Gibbs gave the FBI agent a glare that could make the most deadly assassins run screaming the other way.

"Are you really that naïve, Tobias? Of course they would! They have been fighting for Tony for ages!"

"What!?"

"Someone with his undercover skills? And not to mention he speaks languages, has traveled to different countries and can blend in almost everywhere. He's not just a college frat boy, even if he wears the mask of it and wants people to believe that."

"I know that, Jethro. Why do you think I've been bombarding the kid with job offers for years?" – Seeing the NCIS team leader's eyes darken dangerously, Fornell cleared his throat and quickly changed the topic. – "But how would the CIA even know about him? It's not that you work with them a lot."

"That's why I had McGee take a stroll in the dark corners of the internet to find out how they learnt about him. If it was indeed them."

"And?"

"And McGee just sent an SMS that we should head there; he has something to show us."

"Great. Let's go then."

The two federal agents hurriedly payed for the delicious scrambled eggs they had just eaten for breakfast and made their way towards NCIS Headquarters.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Boss, I found some interesting things while I was… khm… having a look around in Tony's file."

"And!?" – Gibbs was impatient and didn't really care for small talk.

Tim blushed.

"Oh, yes. Well: his file was hacked not long before he disappeared."

"Hacked? DiNutso's file? How? By whom?" – Demanded Fornell.

"I… I tracked it back with Abby's help to-"

"The CIA, Gibbs!" – Piped in Abby. – "Just as we thought. The CIA was accessing Tony's file!"

McGee continued.

"Especially Tony's past undercover assignments, like the one he did as an officer in Baltimore where he almost single-handedly brought down a money laundering ring." – He explained. – "Or the one where he had to pretend to be an Italian businessman and earn the trust of the local drug lord. That was a huge success and earned Tony a special medal. This was also before his time with NCIS…"

"Gibbs…" – Ziva said somewhat confusedly. – "Did you know about these?"

"Not exactly…" – It wasn't easy to admit but Gibbs hadn't known about all the details; only that Tony had been doing undercover gigs before.

"But I did." – Said the director, coming down the stairs and joining the group in front of the big screen in bullpen. – "And nobody else was supposed to. It was the previous director's decision to keep these facts hidden."

"Ahm…" – Tim gulped. – "Director, this is not what it looks like!" – He stuttered, quickly shutting down the monitor.

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, Agent McGee, that you didn't just hack into the classified personal file of your teammate to see who else has done it recently?"

Tim, Ziva and Gibbs exchanged glances while Abby studied Tony's Mickey Mouse stapler with a little bit too much fascination for it to be genuine.

"All right…" – The junior agent sighed. – "Maybe it is exactly what it looks like."

"He was doing it on my orders, Jenny. I'm responsible." – Gibbs stated, pointedly staring into the director's eyes, silently willing her to contradict him.

Fornell had a hard time suppressing a giggle at the apparent 'battle of wills', seeing that he knew very well those two went ways back and with a history like theirs, it was very unlikely she'd take official steps to punish the team.

And he was right of course. After about half a minute during which everyone felt like the time had stood still, Jenny cracked a sad smile.

"It's okay. If it helps us get Tony back… So, what did you find?"

As soon as they recovered from the shock of the director letting this serious breach of protocol slide _and_ calling Tony on his given name, Abby and McGee explained everything again.

"So, you're saying the CIA is behind it all?" – She asked for clarification. – "Are you sure?"

"Director Shepard." – Fornell stepped forward. – "At the moment, we can't be sure of anything. But you have to admit, not many could have pulled this off like that. I mean: DiNutso was taken from the ER, for God's sake, while Jethro was standing right outside the door!"

"I admit, it seems possible. But we need to tread carefully, since we don't have any solid evidence yet."

"We need to talk to the doctor again. Tobias?"

"Absolutely."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

This time, Doctor Hill didn't even attempt to look confident or arrogant; as a matter of fact, he looked more like a frightened little boy than anything else.

Fornell threw the folder onto the table with as much force as he could muster and the man visibly flinched. Opening the file, the FBI agent showed him a photo of Tony. On the picture, the young agent was wearing an NCIS cap, an NCIS coat, had a camera strap around his neck and was smiling cheekily at whoever had been taking the photo. It was so 'Tony' that Fornell felt his heart clench painfully.

"So, doctor. Let's try this again. This man, Agent DiNozzo, was admitted on September 23rd with an injury. Correct?"

"Yes…"

"He didn't die on the table."

"Ahm… but… I already told you he-"

Fornell hit the table with his fist and sent the file flying onto the floor.

"He didn't die on the table." – He repeated. – "So why don't you try telling the truth this time around? Just for the fun of it!"

The doctor looked anywhere but at the agent sitting in front of him and tried to stall for time. When he realized this tactic wouldn't work anymore, he sighed and hung his head.

"He was taken…"

"Taken by whom?"

"There were four men… All in black suits… Wearing sunglasses… I don't know any more!"

The FBI agent turned back around, giving the one-way mirror a pointed stare. He knew all the others were standing on the other side, probably applauding him on his success and heaving a sigh of relief at the same time.

Turning back, he demanded:

"I need to know why you cooperated. You are a doctor, you're job is to heal. To save lives. I know you're genuine; we knew everything about you. You graduated Harvard Medical School on top of your class; you've dedicated your life for your work. So why was Agent DiNozzo different?"

"He was not!" – The man burst out angrily. – "How can you suggest I would… I mean, I've been having nightmares ever since! I feel terrible!"

"But then _why_!? TELL ME!"

The doctor had one or two silent tears running down his cheek by now and he was shaking.

"They too knew everything about me! About my family! The name of my children and where they go to school. My wife's job and where she goes to hang out with her friends. Even about my parents' business. _Everything_!"

"They threatened you?"

"They… I guess you could say so. They didn't need to spell it out. It was enough that they started reciting all these dates, names and places. I immediately knew… They demanded I declare the agent dead. That I make sure Agent Gibbs is told the boy died…"

"And all the others who were present?"

"They had leverage over every one of us. It was as if it were the simplest thing ever to just pull information on anyone who entered the picture."

"And Doctor Willow?"

"We don't have a Doctor Willow working in the hospital."

Fornell narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"You forwarded his autopsy report to NCIS." – He reminded the man.

"Yes, I know. _They_ gave it to me and _they_ told me to send it to NCIS."

"Who are 'they'?"

"I don't know! Look, they just gave me that report. I told them it doesn't look believable; they didn't care. I had to send it to Agent Gibbs and that was it."

"But we interrogated a man who claimed to be Doctor Willow!"

"I don't know whom you interrogated, Agent Fornell, but Doctor Willow doesn't exist. It was just part of their ploy." – The FBI agent jumped up and headed towards the door. The doctor called after him as he was halfway on the corridor. – "Agent Fornell? I'm honestly very sorry for what happened. I hope you'll get your agent back. The boy surely didn't deserve to be part of this mess…"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"But we checked the file of Doctor Willow!" – Exclaimed Ziva as soon as Fornell joined them in the smaller room on the other side of the mirror. – "He had a history working in that hospital."

"It must have been planted. Just like everything else." – Gibbs said with conviction. – " _They_ , whoever they are, must have wanted Tony very much to go to these lengths to get him…"

"Do you still think it's the CIA, Jethro?"

"I don't know who else it could be with this kind of power, Jenny… They obviously couldn't plan this in the hospital in advance; they couldn't know Tony would be injured and I'd take him there. They had probably been watching us for a while and just seized the opportunity when it arose. That means they have resources to pull information on anyone, anytime… I know it wasn't FBI, JAG, Homeland Security… But CIA? They could be."

"And we know they accessed Tony's file not long before that." – Tim reminded them. – "Why would they do it if they didn't want to use the information?"

"I told you something was hinky." – Abby said, shaking her head. – "But we'll get him back, right? Gibbs? We can save him now that we know where to look, can't we?"

The team leader hugged her tightly.

"God, I hope so, Abbs."


	9. Means of Communication

"Bob Gray insists they don't know anything about any disappearance of an American special agent here or abroad." – Informed Jenny the team as soon as she had finished her call in MTAC. She had been talking to the director of CIA, trying to clear things while also not giving anything away. For now, at least. – "Of course I didn't tell him what we suspect. I was treading carefully. I said we were worried about an unnamed agent who hasn't made contact for weeks and has gone completely off grid…"

"And you believe him, Jenny?"

"Of course I don't, Jethro. But this means they really don't want us to know. As a matter of fact, I could see it in his face: he's hiding something and he won't tell us more."

"All right then. What do we do?" – Asked Fornell, looking around at the people in the director's room. They had gathered there to make sure their conversation wouldn't be overheard by anyone, since the director's office was the only room in the whole building that could be made bullet- and soundproof with pushing just one button. – "If CIA has DiNutso, he definitely needs help!"

Everyone nodded. They hated the mere thought of Tony alone, doing who knew what for an agency that had the tendency to regard agents as expendable objects.

"I… might have an idea." – Squeaked Palmer, who was already very nervous just to be in the meeting with the director. Talking in front of all these people was very difficult for him. But he'd do it for Tony.

"Mr. Palmer? What is it?"

"Ah, Doctor Mallard, you know… ahm… Tony and I used to play this game… Ahm… He likes riddles. And old detective movies. And…"

"Palmer, say it already!" – Ziva hissed, getting impatient. She just wanted Tony back.

"Sorry. So, he likes these movies where the spies hide messages in plain sight: like newspaper articles for instance. Do you remember A Beautiful Mind? We had this ongoing game with him, you know? Trying to find messages like that, to see if it's still working. Of course we never found… And then one day I did. I was so excited! I ran to tell him, we cracked it and talked about it for days… And then he confessed in the end that _he_ gave up that advertisement just to see if I'd notice." – He smiled at the memory. – "God, I was so angry for a while."

The others stared at him in amazement. While they knew Jimmy and Tony were friends, nobody suspected they were this close. Then again, Tony was close to everyone…

Tim jumped up.

"Wait a minute! You're saying we could send messages to him with codes and he'd be able to understand them?"

"Definitely." – Jimmy nodded. – "You probably wouldn't think but he's incredibly talented in cryptography. Maybe he'll be the next Leonardo da Vinci." – He chuckled but seeing that nobody else looked amused, he cleared his throat nervously and continued. – "It must be because of all those old films he watches… Anyway: yes. We just need to use a newspaper he'd be able to get anywhere in the world, seeing that we don't know where he is."

Jenny and Gibbs said together:

"The New York Times."

Jimmy nodded in approval.

"That was actually the one he used to prank me. He always said this was one of the most likely papers spies would use because it's available almost everywhere. And I know he reads it."

"Great! So we'll send him a message, telling him we know he's alive… And we'll find him, yes?"

"That's the idea, Abbs."

"Jimmy, can you write the message?"

"I think so, Ziva. I'll do my best."

"Marvelous. Let's do it then."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Ready!" – Jimmy proudly presented a piece of paper for everyone to see.

It was a small article; only a few lines since – as Palmer had explained to them – hidden messages were always short and straightforward. Something nobody would think twice about but would catch the eye of anyone who knew what to look for.

 _Decreasing Number of American Federal Agents_

 _Quantico, Virginia has lost great assets lately due to unexpected outside intervention. Recruiting new members is continuous but not enough; agencies joined forces to gain back what they have lost, claiming: 'Our work is important for our beloved country. We never give up.'_

"Ahm…" – Ziva said after having read it. – "I do not know if he'll understand it… I'm not even sure there's anything to understand, to tell you the truth, Jimmy."

"Oh, but there is, Ziva!" – Ducky smiled. – "Everything is in there: that we lost him but we're not giving up. That we have help from FBI and we know he might be abroad. That we know about the CIA. Everything. Great work, Mr. Palmer, that's ingenious!"

Jimmy blushed.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"I'll make sure they'll put this into all the different editions." – Jenny took the paper. – "I just hope Tony reads the paper, wherever he is…"

"If he has the opportunity, he'll want to keep up with things." – McGee said confidently, though he wasn't sure if he wanted to convince the others or himself more. – "He's always up to date with news." – He added for good measure and hoped he wasn't sounding too desperate.

"In the meantime though we'll have to continue working. Or at least pretend to do so. Otherwise others might get suspicious." – Ziva said, turning to Gibbs for confirmation.

"That's right. We'll work cases like normally."

"But you're one man short, Jethro. I think-"

"No. Jenny: no."

"But-"

"I said: no. We'll manage."

"All right, if you change your mind, just let me know." – The expression on Gibbs' face said more than thousand words could. The director sighed and shook her head. She just wanted their missing agent back so that things could be normal again. – "Fine."

"We also need to organize at least a small memorial service for him. So that CIA won't get suspicious."

"Ziva's right, Boss." – McGee agreed. – "If we lose an agent, there's always a funeral. If we don't have one now, they'll know something's up."

They all knew this was true, so they agreed to have a funeral – though they'd keep it to the bare minimum, knowing it would be hopefully not needed anyway.

"Then everyone knows what their assignment is?" – Each of them nodded at Jenny's question in confirmation. – "Good. To work then!"

Knowing a dismissal when they heard one, the others quietly filed out of the office, leaving the director alone, sitting at her desk, staring at the piece of paper containing their last hope.

' _Oh, Tony. Wherever you are, just please: give us a sign!'_

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

It wasn't until a boring, uneventful (if you didn't count the fake funeral that had been hard to go through even knowing the truth) week of work later when an excited Jimmy literally demanded that Jenny call the team together again, his previous shyness around the boss gone. As soon as all of them were in the office again, he couldn't hold back anymore:

"Tony answered!" – He said simply, wildly waving The New York Times around. – "He's alive!"

"Palmer, are you sure?"

"Yes, Agent Gibbs, look!" – The young medical student handed the paper to the team leader, who held it so that he and his teammates could read it.

 _Europe Extreme Weather_

 _It's uncharacteristically cold for October in most European countries, causing disruptions in traffic and communication. All records have been broken in Berlin with an average temperature of 0°C (32 F) and snowfalls these last few days, prompting more fortunate residents to take vacation time and travel to somewhat warner countries like Spain, where the average temperature of last week was 9°C (49 F) with occasional rainfalls but no snow._

Jimmy anxiously awaited the reaction but was met with blank stares. He snatched the newspaper out of Gibbs' hands (something nobody in their right mind would normally ever do, but right now he was just too excited to care) and thought about how to explain to them.

"Ooookay… So, what's that mean?" – Asked Tim, looking somewhat lost.

"Yeah, Jimmy… How do you even know it's from Tony? It sounds so… normal…" – Ziva added, turning the pages as if hoping she'd find answers in other articles, but there was nothing.

"Don't you see!" – The med student exclaimed. – "The news is bogus, I checked: there's no record of people migrating towards the west just because it's a bit colder than normal…"

Ducky sighed.

"Mr. Palmer, it' not 'a bit colder than normal'. This is extreme. If it's true, it figures they'd write about it…"

"No! I mean: okay, yes. It has to be something they would write about, right? I mean, how else would Tony send a message if they don't write what he wants!? But it's Tony, I swear."

"If it's indeed DiNozzo, it means he was or maybe still is in Germany but headed to Spain." – Concluded Gibbs.

"Exactly." – Nodded Jimmy, glad that at least someone was getting it. – "And he can't communicate other than with these codes. CIA must be keeping tabs on him."

"How do you know that, Jimmy?" – Inquired the director, purposely using the young man's given name so that he'd know he can speak freely and she wasn't doubting him.

"It's in there: 'disrupting communication', director."

"Oh."

"That means we shouldn't even try contacting him any other way; we'd probably get him in trouble." – Jimmy added boldly before blushing again.

"I'll talk to Tobias." – Gibbs said and exited the director's office. They needed to think of a plan to get their boy back.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

 _Halloween Quickly Approaching_

 _Even some European countries have begun to practice Halloween traditions lately: this year Rota, Spain will hold their third Trick-or-Treat party for adults on the Naval Station (better known as NAVSTA) on 31st October beginning 10 PM. Costumes are said to be a requirement and local authorities will join forces with US Navy and Marine Corps personnel to ensure visitors' safety._

"Are you sure he'll understand, Jethro?" – Asked Fornell, holding the newest edition of New York Times in his hands, having read the article at least ten times already and still not feeling sure about the whole thing.

"He'd better." – Was all Gibbs said from where he was packing his go bag for a trip to Europe. – "Are you coming with us, Tobias?"

"You know I am. But how do you know we won't tip off CIA that something's going on when we all suddenly appear in Spain where, by chance, Tony happens to be…?"

"We won't. We'll fly to the UK for the ACLEA." – Seeing his friend's confused expression, he explained. – "The Annual Conference of Law Enforcement Agencies."

"Never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't. This will be the first. We're starting tradition. Abby will join the Section of Forensic Scientists, Ducky and Palmer give a lecture with the title 'The Dead Talk' and Tim will demonstrate how his MIT education and computer knowledge can be helpful in an investigation in the 21st century."

"And we?"

"We, along with Jenny, will participate in a roundtable discussion about leading styles and experiences with having your own team."

"And Ziva?"

"She will compare self-defense types and martial arts of agents from all over the world as well as hold training sessions."

"Wow. Just… Wow. You did give that lots of thoughts. And won't CIA want to be part of this?"

"No. It's only for agencies that operate domestically. MI5 will be there; MI6 won't."

"Great. So, and then how will we get to Rota to meet Tony at the Halloween party?" – Asked the FBI agent, finally getting to the most important question.

"We'll take trains and any other public transportation that's available. No more flying because CIA would know about that."

"Okay…"

Gibbs finished packing and swung the bag onto his shoulder.

"Let's go get your things too. We're meeting in Jenny's office in an hour, ready to go."

' _Tony, hold on, son. We're coming.'_


	10. Halloween Meeting

The Annual Conference of Law Enforcement Agencies, even though it was originally only meant to be a cover for their plot, had been an absolute hit. All the participants were enthusiastic and wanted to really make it a yearly happening.

"Director Shepard, I hope we can count with you and your people next year as well." – Said the director of MI5, shaking Jenny's hand warmly. – "It's always a pleasure to get to know our counterparts."

"Of course, Director General. We wouldn't miss it for anything."

The directors of the Bundeskriminalamt (Federal Criminal Police Office of Germany), the Canadian Security Intelligence Service and the Greiningardeild Ríkislögreglustjóra (National Security Agency of Iceland) all nodded in agreement.

Even if it hadn't been intended, they really seemed to have created tradition…

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

By the time they arrived in Rota, Spain, everyone was tired and moody. From London, they had taken the Eurostar to Paris, from where they'd had to change to other trains – namely three – and eventually to a bus to get to Rota. It all had taken close to 20 hours and none of them had slept much during this time except for Ducky and Ziva who had loudly snored throughout nearly the whole travel and Gibbs who could probably sleep anytime anywhere.

"I officially hate trains." – Complained Tim, stretching his back as they were walking towards the hotel. They would take a shower, rest and change before going to take a look around and prepare for tomorrow's party.

"I had a wonderful time traveling." – Said Ziva in a sing-sang voice, happily bouncing next to her grumping teammate. – "I'm perfectly backfreshed."

"That's 'refreshed' Ziva, and that's because you were sleeping the whole time. Never mind that nobody else could catch some shuteye because of your snoring." – Muttered McGee under his breath, still feeling sore.

"What was that, Timmy?"

"Nothing."

"This city is wonderful! Look at these adorable narrow streets! Oh, and the beach, look!" – Abby exclaimed enthusiastically as they neared their destination. – "I wish we could swim…"

"But it's freezing, Abby…"

"I know, Jimmy. And I think it's a pity. Just imagine what this place can be like during summer!"

"I love palm trees." – Said Fornell, walking next to Ducky. – "They always make me feel like I'm on vacation."

"Sadly, that's not what we're here for, Agent Fornell." – Reminded him the ME gently, checking the map for the tenth time in two minutes. – "I don't get it; maybe we should have turned left back there where we turned right…"

"No, we're walking completely in the wrong direction, Doctor Mallard. We should have gone north, not south to begin with."

"That's not true. We were fine until that last turn."

"I'm telling you, Doctor, it's not right…"

The two continued to bicker, while Ziva, Abby, Tim and Jimmy just enjoyed walking around, taking everything in. Jenny and Gibbs followed a bit farther behind them, talking softly among themselves.

"What do you think? Is Tony here? Will we find him…?" – Asked Jenny the question that had been bugging her the entire time since they had left DC.

Gibbs sighed.

"You know he said in that last encrypted message he'd be here, wearing a Dracula costume. Or, at least, Jimmy swears that's what that article about the 27 species of bat in Spain meant. We'll just have to take his word for it, I'm afraid."

"It's incredible you can use codes in newspapers to communicate. I always thought nobody did that nowadays anymore…"

"I wouldn't have believed it either. But it's Tony we're talking about. He's never been average…"

"That's definitely true." – She smiled. – "He plays this easy-going college frat boy but in reality, he's one of the best agents we have."

Gibbs nodded in agreement.

"I think he wears that mask so that people will underestimate him. That can always come in handy. Pity it didn't work with CIA…"

"Why do you think they were interested in him? He's a great agent, I know, but still: doesn't CIA have their own people to work with?"

"I wish I knew… But I intend to find out eventually."

"We will, Jethro. Will see him tomorrow! I'm confident we will."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

The great hall of the Naval Station was crowded with party guests all wearing different frightening (or in some cases ridiculous) costumes. Gibbs, Shepard and Fornell had their dress uniforms on, since they had volunteered to help ensure the safety of attendants. Also, this way, Tony had more of a chance to recoznize them.

"Is he here, Gibbs? Have you seen him?"

"If I had, you'd already know, Abbs. Patience. He'll come."

The young Goth sighed and fidgeted in her Wicked Witch of the West costume

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

The team was scattered around the room, trying to look for any 'vampires' roaming but it was already nearly midnight and still, they hadn't seen anyone who could pass for Tony DiNozzo.

A few meters away, Ziva tried to pull her Toy Story's Jesse pants a bit higher as the jeans kept sliding off her hips.

"I do not understand these silly American traditions. I mean: what's the point!? We all look like jesters."

"Clowns, Ziva. We look like clowns." – Sighed McGee, adjusting his pirate's hat. – "And it's for Tony, so we need to suck it up."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But why couldn't I get something more normal than this… abomination?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that Toy Story is one of the most successful animated movies in history!"

At the other end of the hall, Ducky was giving a lecture to Jimmy.

"Sherlock Holmes is the first and only consulting detective, Mr. Palmer. His observation skills are so unique that he can spot a criminal from just seeing the cuffs of a man! And these items…" – He said, pointing at the deerstalker hat, the matching scarf and long caped duster coat he was wearing, while waving around a long, crooked pipe with the other hand. – "… are his most distinctive features.

"How exactly does that deduction-thing work, Doctor?" – Jimmy, dressed as a gremlin, asked.

"Oh, details can be very telling, Mr. Palmer. Very telling indeed. So, for example in one of the stories…"

Jenny and Fornell were doing their third round when the director stopped dead in her tracks and pointed towards the entrance where a dark-haired man with a long black cape and an elegant tuxedo underneath had just entered.

"Ducky…" – She breathed.

"I can see him, director."

Having given their prearranged sign to the others, she nodded to Tony to follow them inconspicuously. In the end, the group found shelter in an abandoned smaller room that probably usually served as storage for old case files and other documents.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Abby squeaked and jumped into Tony's arms, having had a hard times restraining herself for so long.

"Oh, my God, my God, my God! _Tony_! I knew you can't be dead! I just knew!" – She chanted, sobbing uncontrollable on her friend's shoulder. – "Don't you dare do this to us ever again, mister!"

"Sorry, Abbs… But I can't breathe…"

"Oh…" – She disentangled herself from him but refused to leave his side. Also, she didn't seem to be able to stop crying, causing her green make up to get smeared and sticky.

"You wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you guys!" – Tony said, looking each of them into the eyes.

"Of course we can, DiNozzo. We feel the same." – Gibbs shook hands with his senior field agent, wanting to make sure he was really there and well.

"Thanks, Boss. Ziva, you look… interesting. Toy Story?"

"Shut up!" – But she was smiling and after just one second hesitation, she hugged him. – "Anyway: this is all your fault, of course." – She said, before wiping her eyes furiously. – "Damn dust…" – She muttered.

"Of course, the dust... McHook? Was it time to make your childhood dream come true?"

"You know what, Tony? I'd have never thought I'd ever miss your insults. But as funny as it might sound: I did miss it."

"My autopsy gremlin; always said you'd make a happy little elf one day!"

"Yeah, well. I chose not to fight it anymore but rather to embrace my inner goblin!"

"And what have we here? The great Sherlock Holmes himself. Though you're nothing like Benedict Cumberbatch. More like-"

"There are novels and short stories, Anthony, not only the TV series and old movies!"

"I bet there are."

"DiNutso!"

"Hey, Fornell!" – Tony was very surprised to be pulled into a bear hug by the older man.

"I'm glad you're alive!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, well… khm…" – The FBI agent suddenly looked somewhat uncomfortable. – "Jethro was getting unbearable without you deflecting his ire."

Jenny, who until that point had stayed close to the door as if guarding it, now stepped up to Tony and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking him over; checking for sings of injury.

"Tony. How are you? What happened?"

The senior field agent turned somber, knowing full well that it was time to tell them everything.

 **AN: First of all: thank you all for every review, comment, kudos, favoriting, following etc. It means the world to me that you're reading and enjoying my story!**

 **I'll by going away for next week, so update will take a bit longer than normally, but don't worry; I'm not abandoning the fic! I'm having entirely too much fun with it to do that.**


	11. The Full Story

"I'm fine, Jenny."

The director shook her head sadly.

"You don't look fine, Tony. As a matter of fact, you look like hell."

"Thanks…"

"She's right though, Tony. Have you been eating at all?" – Asked Tim, for the first time taking a good look at his teammate in the semi-dark room.

"I… No. Not really." – Tony admitted with a sigh. – "You probably know I was taken straight from the ER, right?"

"Yes, DiNozzo, we already figured that out." – Sighed Gibbs, looking somewhat impatient and annoyed. – "Question is: how and why?"

Tony was staring at the floor, not bearing to see their horrified expressions upon seeing his skinny frame as soon as he had taken off the cape and his suit jacket.

"I don't really know the 'how', Boss. I think I wasn't totally aware. Or not at all… I don't know; it turns out I really did lose a considerable amount of blood. Not enough to kill me, of course. They also might have used some kind of drugs the doctor claimed to be pain meds… Anyway, I do know that I woke up in an airplane, 35,000 feet over the ocean, on the way to Europe. And they told me you all thought I was dead, and that I was not to try to contact any of you, otherwise…"

"Otherwise?" – Ducky prodded carefully. – "Did they threaten to hurt you, my boy?"

"No, Ducky. They threatened to hurt _you_ all." – Tony admitted reluctantly. – "They said if I as much as attempted to contact anyone, 'freak accidents' were going to start to happen and that nobody would suspect anything, since our line of job isn't exactly safe anyway."

Abby and Ziva visibly seethed while Jimmy looked absolutely petrified.

"They threatened _us_!?"

"Yes, Jimmy. And not just you personally. All your family members and friends too. These people know everything. I mean it: _everything_ about everyone. Boss' father, my father, Tim's grandmother… The list goes on and on."

"DiNutso: who are _they_?"

"CIA, Special Activities Division. They needed me for an undercover gig."

"Wow." – Was all Tim could say and Abby nodded in agreement.

"What did you have to do, Tony?" – Jenny inquired, feeling sure she wouldn't like the answer.

"Ahm… There was this underground group operating in Berlin. The CIA had suspected a long time ago they might be terrorist but had nothing solid on them. Now they got intel they were probably planning different attacks on multiple targets, like the Eiffel Tower, the Big Ben, the Empire State Building… and others like that. Targets that symbolize the western way of life. CIA only had information about where this group held its meetings but they couldn't be sure of anything. It was in an abandoned building next to a coffee shop and somebody had noticed unusual activity there lately. They had been watching for a while but couldn't really find out anything that way, so, I needed to pose as a barista to keep an eye on the persons frequenting the building and try to get close to them."

"Why couldn't anyone else do it? Someone from CIA?"

Tony snorted.

"They needed someone who was _expendable_." – He spat the word with venom. – "And someone who knew what they were doing since the CIA couldn't make any headway on its own. I moved into an apartment across the street and I was also expected to enter the building on different occasions during the night or whenever the group wasn't there. Gather evidence. Of course, the boys didn't expect me to survive at all. That's the other reason I didn't try to make contact with you: I figured you buried me already… why should you have to do it again?"

Stunned silence followed this explanation and it lasted for at least two minutes. In the end, Gibbs shook his head and said:

"And how did you get away to come here?"

"We got the terrorists, around a week ago. We got all the evidence; prosecution won't be a problem. It was not easy and I nearly got shot down at least three times. The leader of the group caught me snooping around one night and I had to pretend to be interested in joining the gang. They put me though some very rough initiation process before they finally decided I was to be trusted. In the end, I saw the workings from inside and had everything to get them. When it was finally over, I told the agents that I've had enough; I wanted out. A wanted to go home. They said it was not possible, that I'll get another assignment and will remain with them since to the world, I was dead anyway. Just like a good little undercover agent: nonexistent with nobody to missing them. But I don't want to be a CIA agent, Boss! They repeated the threat if I even thought about talking to you but by then, I had the New York Times articles to rely on. Which was, by the way, ingenious." – He smiled at Jimmy, knowing well it must have been his idea. – "I just took off and ran…" – He finished.

"They wanted to make you disappear." – Concluded Fornell.

"Yes. They promised a new identity, a new citizenship. They said I could even choose wherever I wanted to live and what I wanted to do. I could be a 'sleeper agent' until they needed me again, they said. But I only want one thing: to go home and back to NCIS!" – He sounded desperate by now. – "I don't know how. I'm sure they're looking for me right now." – He was beginning to panic now. – "I think I shouldn't be here any longer. It's dangerous for all of us. I should-"

"You move anywhere and I'll head slap you into next week, DiNozzo."

"But, Boss! Don't you see-"

"Shut up, DiNutso, and let us think."

"I'll bring you some food, Tony. I'll be right back." – Jenny offered.

"No, it's fine."

"It's not." – With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving the others still in stupor, trying to come up with a plan to save their friend, along with themselves.

By the time the director came back with sandwiches for everyone and some pastries, they still didn't have an answer. They ate in silence until Fornell suddenly came up with something.

"We need more power. We're nothing against the CIA. Not alone. But together… And with some more help."

"What do you mean, Agent Fornell?" – Ziva asked before taking a bite of her muffin. – "I supposed I could ask my father whether Mossad would be willing to step in…"

The FBI agent shook his head.

"I mean we'll need the full cooperation of the FBI. I'll talk to my director. And then, he and you, Director Shepard, talk to the President together."

"The president… as in…" – Began Tim, looking confused.

"Yes, Agent McGee: the President of the United States."

Tony chuckled in honest bewilderment.

"Why would the President of the United States be interested in what happens to _me_!?"

Jenny smiled.

"Actually, it's a good idea. He will definitely be interested in stopping unauthorized and arbitrary actions of one agency against another. It's not, nor should it be permitted to become a war between agencies. If they want you, they should make you an official offer and let you decide."

"Just like I do. So, DiNutso, if you ever decide-"

"Tobias: over my dead body."

"I know, Jethro. Trust me: I know…"

Tony fidgeted nervously.

"Actually: they have been making offers for ages…"

"WHAT!?"

Gibbs bellowed:

"I know they've wanted you but I've always thought all their prompting came to me! And I never told you…"

"I think they figured it out, Boss, because they began sending me letters around a year ago. And since then at least once a month… But I always ignored them, promise!"

"Why didn't you report it?"

"I didn't think they were dangerous, Jenny! They were just offers, harmless like those from Homeland Security or-"

"DiNozzo!" – Barked Gibbs. – "When we all get back to DC, we'll have a serious talk about all this!"

All the while Ziva was muttering under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like 'unfair' and 'unbelievable'.

Tony ignored her and turned to Gibbs instead.

"Boss, there's nothing to talk about! I didn't ask for them and I don't care and…" – He received the full blow of the infamous Gibbs-glare at that, momentarily halting his tirade. – "Ahm… Gotcha, Boss. We'll have a talk…"

In the end, they managed to focus enough to decide on carrying out the plan and also agreed on all the important the details. Tony would stay in Rota while the others would make their way back to the UK the same way they had come ("Oh, no! Do we have to?" – Whined Abby), to fly home from there and to talk to the director of the FBI then the President right away.

It was all a chess game with the CIA now and it was their time to make a move. They were determined to finish it with a checkmate.


	12. Home At Last

It had taken the team two days to get home and another two to set up an appointment with first to director of FBI then, as word got out, with other agencies like Homeland Security, NSA and NIA. Even those who didn't know Tony personally joined them, thinking if the CIA could just 'steal' an agent from NCIS, who was to say _they_ won't be the next targets? So, together, they sought out the President.

To say that the President (and his staff) had been surprised at the unusual request for an interview was an understatement. But once Jenny and FBI director Joe Brown had successfully explained the recent happenings with the CIA and Agent DiNozzo, and he saw the support given from the other agencies to the campaign of getting said agent back, he became more angry than anything.

"I won't tolerate anyone taking private actions like that! I can assure all of you, this was not sanctioned, nor could it ever be! No agency of the United States kidnaps agents of other organizations to force them into suicide missions! That's unheard of!" – The man was positively shaking with rage. – "I can't believe something like that could happen under my presidency. I could lose my post over this even if I don't have anything to do with it!" – He continued raving.

"Mr. President; we don't want to make a big deal out of it." – Assured him Jenny quickly. – "Agent DiNozzo is luckily unharmed, though understandably somewhat shaken. We just want to get him back to us as soon as possible without having to worry about any retaliation from CIA."

"So, if you could ensure that Agent DiNozzo go back home safely _and_ nothing like that can ever happen again… to _any of us_ … we would be willing not to press charges or make this whole unfortunate incident public, Mr. President. Nobody would have to know about it." – Said the director of FBI, trying to look as confident as possible, pointedly looking at the other leaders, seeking their nods and supportive presence. They had agreed in advance they would use this argument because there was a chance the President would be willing to do anything to avoid a media scandal, especially this close to the new elections. Still, it didn't mean he felt comfortable literally blackmailing the man… If it didn't work out, it could have serious consequences for all.

The President contemplated the situation in silence for a while before he sighed. He pressed a button on his phone that enabled him to talk to his personal secretary.

"Emily? Please, get me Bob Gray on video conference, right now!" – He bellowed. – "Tell him it's very important and can't wait. I don't care what he's doing at this very moment, I want him on the screen within five minutes."

Exactly three minutes and thirty-four second later, the big screen in the conference room came alive, showing a moderately annoyed-looking CIA director staring at the President, waiting to hear what had been so important that he'd had to leave an important meeting with his best team leader because of it. Jenny and the other directors had stepped to the side, so that the man couldn't see them but they could see and hear everything just fine. It had been agreed they wouldn't utter a word; they'd just let the President handle things.

\- Director Gray, I just learned something quite unsettling. – Began the President.

 _\- What is it about, Mr. President? Is it something you'd like us to handle? I have a team ready for-_

\- No, Director. It has something to _do_ with you and your agency." – Seeing the other man's raised eyebrow, he continued. – "Do you happen to know anything about an Agent DiNozzo?

 _\- Agent DiNozzo…?"_ – Now Gray looked a bit nervous but tried to cover it up very quickly. – _"No, I don't think we have an Agent DiNozzo working for us. I could ask HR if you-_

\- He's not. That's exactly my point, Director, and please: don't play the dumb. I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about.

 _\- But—_

\- But NCIS is expecting its agent back immediately. Unharmed.

The director cleared his throat.

 _\- Mr. President… I can explain-_

\- I'm not interested in explanations, Director Gray. What I'm interested in is your resignation on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.

 _\- What!? But… I… Please I can-_

\- No buts, Director. You are getting tired of this job: all the meetings and long hours… The pressure. It's absolutely understandable and you're the right age for retirement anyway. Full benefits, effective immediately. Or we could, of course, initiate an investigation. Look into how Agent DiNozzo came to be in Europe instead of DC…

 _\- But…_

Gibbs, who as the missing agent's team leader was the only one allowed into the meeting beside the directors, just about had had enough by now. He stepped forward, looking straight into the man's deep-brown eyes. The man who had taken his senior field agent. his friend. His… son! The one who had made him believe the kid was dead and made his whole team suffer for weeks. The one who sent Tony to a suicide mission and wouldn't have cared if he hadn't made it out alive. The man who clearly deserved to suffer!

The NCIS team leader gritted his teeth and hissed.

\- You still don't get it, do you, Director? Agent DiNozzo is mine. He. Is. Mine. And you took him from me. There's nothing you can say to make it better, so you'd better not even try it, unless you want to incur our wrath.

The man visibly paled and shifted so that he was talking to the President, ignoring Gibbs as much as possible with the frightening man presenting him with the full force of the famous 'Gibbs-glare'.

 _\- You'll have my resignation by tomorrow, Mr. President._ – The director of CIA whispered.

The President just nodded before disconnecting the call; there were no more words wasted on the other man. He turned to his numerous visitors.

"Director Shepard, Agent Gibbs: I believe you'll get your agent back soon enough. I can assure all of you that nothing like this is ever going to happen again. Not, if I have anything to say about it. Please, keep me updated about the agent's condition."

"Thank you very much, Mr. President." – Jenny breathed, having a hard time keeping the tears at bay. – "Will do."

Once outside she thanked her FBI counterpart and all the other participants then hurried back to Headquarters. She wanted to tell the others the good news in person.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"So, Tony is really coming home?" – Asked Abby for the fourth time, clearly not able to believe her ears. – "For real?"

Gibbs smiled a rare, happy smile.

"Yes, Abbs. He's coming home."

Ziva and McGee breathed a sigh of relief, turning towards the senior field agent's desk that had remained unoccupied ever since he had 'died'. No one had been permitted to sit on his chair or to turn on his computer, even when they had still believed him gone for good.

"I can't wait to have him here again." – Admitted Tim shyly. – "It's been so quiet without him harassing us constantly."

"I miss him correcting my English." – Said Ziva. – "It's not the same if someone else does it. It's nothing against you, Tim. It's just…"

"Yeah. I know."

"Finally I'll have someone to play 'spy' with again." – Declared Jimmy brightly, already anticipating all the pranks they would play on the others. He missed his friend horribly, and couldn't be happier now that he knew he'd be back soon.

"I think this calls for a celebration. As soon as young Anthony comes back, we should go out. Do something together."

"Good suggestion, Ducky." – Abby agreed immediately. – "A good restaurant… And a movie night! He'll definitely like it!"

"All right, people. Back to work! It will be quite a few hours before our lost troublemaker is back and we have lots to do until then."

When a series of good-naturedly groaning followed his order, Gibbs knew that, eventually, they'd be all right.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

As soon as the elevator door chimed and slid open, Tony was met with eight pairs of suspiciously bright, eager eyes.

Ziva, Abby, Tim and Jimmy were standing so close that he couldn't even attempt to get out of the lift, while Jenny, Ducky, Gibbs and Fornell were right behind them, just as teary-eyed as their younger friends.

Tony plastered a tired smile on his face and moved towards his teammates, already anticipating the hug from Abby. He wasn't disappointed: it didn't take half a second for the Goth to jump into his waiting arms, already sobbing (it seemed she was doing quite a lot of that lately) and laughing at the same time.

"Hi, Abbs. How are you?"

"How am I?" – She repeated hysterically. – " _How am I!?_ How are you!? You are… were… dead!"

Tony sighed, gently setting her down and accepting pats on his shoulders and hugs from all the others as well.

He was slightly surprised at the head slap he received, though it wasn't nearly as painful as usually.

"DiNozzo: if you ever scare us like that again, I'll head slap you into next week. Do you hear me?" – His boss threatened strictly, but his eyes told a completely different story: he was very happy to have his senior field agent back where he belonged instead of the other end of the Earth.

Jenny was the next to embrace him.

"Was your travel all right? CIA promised first class and all-inclusive service…"

Fornell patted him on the back.

"She threatened McGath until he agreed to provide you anything you needed to travel comfortably."

Tony blinked.

"Who's McGath?"

"His the acting director of CIA." – Explained McGee.

At her partner's confused expression, Ziva added:

"Director Gray resigned. He wasn't given any other choice."

"Oh… Well… Yeah, the travel was fine. I'm fine."

The others exchanged concerned glances.

"They didn't give you a hard time about quitting, did they, DiNutso?"

"No. It was fine." – More stunned blinks. Tony thought he had maybe overdone with the 'fine' a bit. – "I mean: great. It was really great." – Damn, this didn't seem to help any. Of course, nobody believed leaving the CIA could be 'great'. 'Dad was right. I'm far too stupid to do anything right', thought Tony miserably.

"Tony… ahm…" – Tim gulped. – "Are you sure you're all right? We would understand if you needed some time to… ahm… readjust."

"No. Why would I need to readjust? I wasn't gone that long, McConcerned."

"Ooookay…"

"We were thinking about throwing a 'welcome home' party. You know, to celebrate that you're back…?" – Said Abby, sounding a bit unsure.

Tony looked around, hating to disappoint them.

"It's very nice of you, but maybe some other time, guys, okay? I'm a bit tired and all… But you can go. Really. Don't reschedule on my account."

"But Tony… We wanted to celebrate having _you_ back."

"You have me back, Abbs. You can celebrate. Excuse me, I… need to go. See you all tomorrow?"

With that, he back into the elevator again, and quickly pressed the button. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was the sad and worried expressions of his friends. His family.

What the hell was wrong with him? He should be overjoyed to be home! He should want to celebrate! Instead of that, he felt… Hell, he didn't even know how he felt.

All he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to go home and to sleep. Yes, that was probably it. He was really just tired. Everything would be better tomorrow.


	13. Nothing is the Same

"I'm worried about that boy, Jethro!" – Stated Jenny as soon as Gibbs entered her office and closed the door.

It had been three weeks since Tony had come back to them but it seemed like he was really only there in body, not in mind. He sat at his desk absent-mindedly staring into space, not hearing if someone called his name or if he was asked something. He did his job just as splendidly as before if not even more efficient but he wasn't 'their Tony' at all. He wasn't the easy-going, joking guy everyone knew and loved, even if Tim and Ziva complained about his 'unprofessional' behavior all the time. His half-hearted attempts at 'normal' teasing only made things worse and everyone had noticed how he struggled to keep going day by day.

Gibbs sighed and sank onto the nearest chair, looking as tired as the director felt. Here, in the sanctuary of his longtime friend's office with only the two of them, he could relax and didn't have to pretend that everything was fine.

"I know… Me too, Jenny." – He admitted for the first time out loud. Of course, all of the others had sought him out on different occasions pleading with him to do something but he had always assured them it would be fine and ordered them to leave Tony (and the whole topic) alone for the time being. Had assured them the kid only needed time. Here though… here he didn't lie anymore. He couldn't. – "If he won't start eating and taking care of himself again soon, Ducky will have to step in. He has already threatened…" – He trailed off, not wanting to continue. But this was enough to make Jenny understand.

"He looks like he hasn't slept for ages." – She nodded. – "All those dark circles under his frighteningly red eyes… Something's wrong! And it's not getting better with time."

"No, it's not." – He agreed.

"What do we do then?"

"I will talk to him. Tonight."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Getting Tony to agree to come over to his house hadn't been easy. He'd literally had to order the damn stubborn young man, for God's sake, whereas before… _before_ … this whole mess he would have come on his own whenever he felt down or just wished for company.

But, finally, they were both in the basement and for the first time since beign reunited with his NCIS family, Tony wouldn't have the opportunity to run from the much needed conversation anymore.

The leader of the team poured Bourbon for the both of them and started sanding in silence, giving his younger friend the choice whether he wanted to start talking or not.

Unsurprisingly, Tony chose not to say a thing.

Gibbs sighed before giving up on patience and beginning himself.

"How are you, Tony?" – He prompted, consciously using the boy's given name which didn't happen often. – "And don't give me that shit about being 'fine' because I'm not buying it anymore!"

The senior field agent ignored the question and pretended to be interested in the woodwork instead.

"What are you making?"

"It's a surprise and don't change the subject."

The young man huffed in annoyance.

"What do you want me to say then? You won't take the truth, which is 'fine'. So then what?"

"You are not fine, Tony."

"Yes, I am." – He insisted unyieldingly.

"Are we going to play that game for long?"

"I don't know; you tell me, Boss. It's your house, your game, your rules. I don't have much say in it."

Gibbs stopped sanding and straightened, looking Tony into the eyes.

"Is that how you feel, DiNozzo? That you don't have a say?" – The other man just shrugged his shoulders, trying and failing to look unbothered. – "On the team? With me? With your father? Or in your life? Where exactly don't you have a say?"

"It's nothing, Boss. Just forget it."

"I don't want to forget it. I want you to tell me what's been eating at you ever since you've come back. It's like half of you is still in Europe!"

Tony was slowly but surely getting angry and felt himself lose control over his emotions.

"Well, I'm sorry if you're not satisfied with what you got! Maybe I wasn't worth going against the CIA for?"

"You know that's not what I think! Why would you even say something like that?"

"Because it seems like nobody likes what I am anymore! So what if I don't make jokes all the time? What if I actually spend the working hours with… you know: _work_!? You should be happy about it! And I thought Ziva and Tim hated my 'frat boy' personality anyway!? Well, I'm not that now! It's called growing up!"

Gibbs decided to let Tony rant, hoping he'd get to the bottom of the problem like that, but when the boy sank to the stairs, totally spent, he knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Not eating and not sleeping has nothing to do with growing up." – The team leader pointed out, eyeing the distraught young man's slight form with worry. – "It's self-destruction, and everyone has noticed it. Any day now Duck can decide to have you admitted to a hospital if you don't start taking care of yourself."

Tony's normally bright green eyes darkened to an almost black color. It made him look somewhat crazy and dangerous.

"Are you threatening me? Is that why you invited me here?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just saying-"

"You know what? I don't care!" – Tony jumped up and only barely managed to catch himself from tumbling down the stairs when the sudden movement made him dizzy. Gibbs was next to him instantly, ready to hold him should he collapse. But the young man only pulled away angrily. – "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help! I can take care of myself; I've been doing it since I was a child!"

"DiNozzo, listen-"

"No, you listen: as long as I can do my work, it's none of your business what I do or don't do in my free time! None of you has the right to have me admitted to any hospitals if I don't agree to it. Stop meddling with my life!"

"Tony-"

"I'm outta here, Boss!" – With that, he stormed out, leaving his father-figure staring after him dejectedly.

'Well, that went well…'

Something was definitely very-very wrong…

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

The next day around lunchtime, Ziva and Tim cornered Tony in the elevator, stopping it with the flick of a button and effectively cutting off any way he could avoid them – yet again.

"We're going out to Ben's Burgers to have lunch. Will you come with us?" – Asked Ziva, her voice carefully friendly but everything about her posture suggested she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

Apparently, Tony didn't get the message.

"No, but thanks. Good appetite to you though." – He tried to reach around McGee to start the elevator again but his two teammates blocked his movement. – "What the hell are you doing?" – He asked, somewhat irritated. He didn't have time for this nonsense!

"Tony… You do know that we're your friends, right?" – Asked Tim tentatively. – "And that you can talk to us?"

"Sure thing, McSensitive. Why wouldn't I know that?"

"So then why don't you tell us what's brothering you?"

"It's 'bothering', Ziva." – Sighed Tim when it became apparent Tony wouldn't correct her, even though she had most probably only messed up to provoke a reaction from their partner.

"Whatever. So, Tony?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine." – Ouch. He'd really need to think of a synonym since it seemed to just make everyone mad if he used this word… People were funny. – "Really, there's nothing wrong, guys." – He added helpfully, even though it didn't sound very convincing even to himself.

"Then it shouldn't be a problem having lunch with us, should it?"

"It is a problem, because I have somewhere to be, McPersistent."

Ziva narrowed her eyes, studying her friend thoughtfully.

"And where?" – She asked when no more explanation was offered.

"Somewhere. It's private. You would know what it means, wouldn't you, Zivaah? It's not like _you_ don't have things you keep from us…"

"What are you talking about?"

Tony shook his head, almost sadly.

"Nothing. Just forget it." – If she couldn't figure out he had already guessed a long time ago what had happened in Gibbs' basement with Ari and how she had come to become part of their team, he sure as hell wouldn't tell her. – "I need to be going now. Would you step out of the way, Probie?" – He all but pushed the other man away from the button to make the elevator continue its way down.

They moved again and the lift soon chimed with the arrival to the ground floor. Tony stepped out and made his way towards the exit.

His two friends watched him go, unsure what to make of the conversation and of this unusual behavior.

Now they were even more worried than before. Something wasn't right with their teammate but they couldn't figure out what it was.


	14. I'm Fine!

_\- Jethro, we need to talk._

\- What is it, Duck? Did you find out something new about the death of the petty officer?

 _\- No… That's not what I want to talk to you about. Can you come here, please?_

Gibbs instantly had a feeling he knew what this was about. He sighed.

\- All right. I'll be there in ten.

Nearly exactly ten minutes later he entered Autopsy to find no trace of Jimmy and Ducky sitting at his desk, looking deeply bothered.

The NCIS team leader approached the ME cautiously, not sure if he was ready for the upcoming conversation.

"Duck…?"

The doctor turned around and fixed his long-time friend with a stare.

"It's gone too far, Jethro." – There was no need to ask what he was referring to. Gibbs leaned against one of the autopsy tables heavily, bracing himself for the inevitable. – "I need to step in now."

"He won't agree to go to a hospital, Duck, and you know we can't make him against his will. And even if we could…" – He quickly added, seeing that Ducky had opened his mouth to protest. – "… I wouldn't do that to him. He would never ever trust me again."

The ME shook his head.

"In this case, he'll be declared medically unfit for duty."

Gibbs knew the older man was right but it didn't mean he liked it.

"Just give me the weekend, Duck."

"Jethro… It's been-"

"I know. Just the weekend; it's Friday anyway, nothing would happen today anymore that can't be done on Monday. I'll handle it. And if I can't… Then you do what you need to do."

The ME contemplated his friend for a while before relenting.

"All right. You have until Monday, Jethro. But you have to understand, if he won't start looking like an actual human being by then instead of a walking corps that should be lying on one of my tables, there won't be any more deadlines."

"I understand."

"I know. The only question is: will our dear boy understand too?"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Convincing Tony to visit him Sunday afternoon hadn't been easy. It was like the boy was deliberately avoiding him outside of work ever since their last falling out in this very same basement. Not to mention that he had disappeared on the day before altogether. He hadn't picked up his cell (Gibbs was planning on having a word with him about Rule #3 as soon as this whole situation was sorted out), and he hadn't been at home either – the team leader had checked, of course.

But luckily, now here he was. The only problem was, that Gibbs didn't have an idea what to say and how to help. The deadline was weighting heavily on him but he couldn't begin with that. Tony would take it as a threat. Or a blackmail. Whatever…

There had been a time when talking to his senior field agent had been the most normal and easiest thing in the world. The two of them had been able to talk about anything and everything without it becoming awkward. Not anymore… Gibbs longed for those times when he had been the young man's confidant – his father figure. Before the kidnapping, before the undercover assignment… generally before the damn CIA!

He didn't know if those times could come back but he would try his best to make it happen! And for that, they needed to talk now. He needed to find out what was bothering the kid; eating at him constantly.

"I bought your favorite pizza." – He began. – "Pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese."

"Thanks…"

"Shall I grab plates?"

"Maybe later."

Great beginning…

Tony was sitting on the stairs, watching Gibbs work on the 'surprise' – his Boss still refused to tell him what it was and he couldn't figure it out for the life of him just by looking at it.

"Wanna help me?"

"I don't want to mess it up, Boss."

"You wouldn't."

"It's okay. I'm content to just watch."

Another half an hour later Gibbs couldn't bear it anymore.

"Tony. Come on, let's go up into the kitchen."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am."

Together, they made their way upstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a considerable sized slice of pizza each. While Gibbs ate contently, Tony only played with his.

"I'm really not hungry, Boss." – He sighed, seeing the team leader's expression. – "I'm just tired. Was there something you needed me to do? I mean, if you don't mind, I'd like to just do it then go home and rest a bit before we have to be in the office tomorrow…"

Gibbs couldn't believe his own ears. He didn't know if he was more surprised at hearing DiNozzo admit at seven in the evening on a weekend that he wanted to go to sleep, or at the fact that he could be so dumb as to assume his father-figure only wanted him around because he needed help with something. Was the stupid boy kidding him!?

"DiNozzo, you're not going anywhere. What I need is you talking to me."

"Boss… What about?" – Tony was suspicious. What should he do now? He knew the others were worried, especially Gibbs. Gibbs, who always knew when something was going on with him, as if he older man could read his mind, even from a distance. But this time he couldn't know. It was just not possible. He needed to protect his teammates and friends. His family.

"What do ya think, DiNozzo?" – Gibbs snapped but then silently counted to ten and retreated a bit. The last thing he wanted to do was get into another argument with his agent. – "I just want to help you. It's painfully obvious something is hurting you."

"Nothing is hurting me but my head right now, because I'm getting tired of people cornering me with that unnecessary worry!"

"Tony, we both know that's not true. Don't insult me by lying." – The senior field agent wisely decided to remain silent and poked at his pizza instead, pretending to take a miniature bite. It didn't fool Gibbs for a second, but still, the team leader at least appreciated the effort. They were quiet for a while, each engrossed in their own thoughts, until Gibbs cleared his throat, and asked: - "What happened to our friendship? Did I hurt you in some way?"

This had been so unexpected that Tony nearly choked on the small bit of sausage he had eventually taken into his mouth. The Boss didn't ask things like that! He didn't care if he insulted anyone and he never apologized even if it was warranted, so what was the point then? And here he had done it anyway… The young man had no idea what to make of it.

"Ahm… Boss…" – He had no clue what to say. He couldn't say the truth but he didn't want to hurt the feelings of the only 'father' had ever had.

"Do you feel like it's somehow my fault you got kidnapped from the hospital?" – It seemed the older man really thought this could be the reason, and also as if it had been on his mind for a while.

"What!? Of course not!" – Tony insisted vehemently.

"Because if it is so, you can tell me. I would understand. Maybe it _was_ my fault… I should have-"

"No, Boss. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault but the CIA's."

"Then what, DiNozzo? Why don't you trust me anymore?" – Tony remained stubbornly silent, staring at his now cold pizza as if expecting it to jump to his rescue. Sadly, it didn't, and Gibbs wasn't giving up either. – "I have noticed how you recently question some of my decisions; my leadership. I know you have your own ideas about how you'd behave with your own team." – The senior field agent refused to acknowledge his boss' observations in any way, while deep inside he knew very well, it was all true: he had started to change, and he had indeed his different ideas of certain things. Not that it had anything to do with anything going on right now. – "And it's all right." – Tony chanced a look at his friend just to see that he really didn't seem angry or resentful at all. Gibbs smiled. – "It's completely normal. I'm actually proud: a leader is what I've been raising you to be."

"Ahm… Boss?"

"Why do you think I'm so much harsher with you than with anyone else? Hmmm? Why all the head slaps?"

"Because… I'm joking too much and don't take things serious enough…?" – Guessed the young man.

"No!" – Gibbs actually rolled his eyes. – "I'm harder on you because one day you'll be my successor as the head of the MCRT, DiNozzo!"

"Oh…? _OH_!"

"See? And of course that would mean you'd start changing. That's what I wanted for you. I'm not surprised the time has come for you to see beyond me. I'm not the perfect boss anymore in your eyes-"

"That's not true! I'm-"

"- and it's all right. Really, it is. I just didn't expect this to change our friendship as well." – Gibbs finished, having said more than Tony had heard from him at once since… well, probably ever.

The man also looked a bit sad.

"But Boss! I trust you with my life. This hasn't changed." – Promised Tony, wanting… no: _needing_ … his friend to believe him.

"Right now, Tony…" – Gibbs sounded infinitely sorrowful. – "… you don't seem to value your own life too much, so excuse me if that doesn't make me feel any better."

The senior field agent growled.

"Arrgh, and here we are again! I told you already but I'll say it again: I. Am. Fine. There's nothing wrong with me!" – He shouted, throwing the knife and fork he had been holding back onto the plate and swiping the napkin onto the floor. This had to stop. Now.

Gibbs didn't flinch. Actually, he was pleased. He had a gut feeling that this would be the moment when he'd finally learn what was wrong with his agent. He just hoped he'd be able to cope with the truth.


	15. More Conspiracy

Gibbs sat opposite Tony, fixing his younger colleague with a stare that could make any suspect start to sing the story of their lives and all their misdeeds right away. Not his senior field agent though. The young man knew him better than anyone else – maybe even better than Jenny, and that definitely said a lot. The boy surely knew his 'father' wanted the best for him and wouldn't push if it weren't necessary. Well, at least Gibbs hoped he knew it.

The staring contest lasted about five full minutes and was starting to become quite awkward, before the younger man casually got up, tossed his plate still bearing his pizza into the microwave and started heating it up.

"Too cold." – Was the only explanation he offered.

"It's good to know you at least still remember how to operate that machine, DiNozzo."

"Boss, are you kidding me? That's the only thing I can do in the kitchen; I'm not about to confuse it with anything else."

"I could teach you to make steak." – The leader of the team offered somewhat hopefully, finishing his own dinner. – "I have just the perfect fireplace for it."

Tony took the plate out and sat down again.

"Do you have ketchup?" – Gibbs made a face but produced a bottle from one of the cabinets and handed it to Tony, watching with horrified fascination as the young man spread a generous amount of it on his pizza. – "Thanks. You know, Senior never taught me anything." – The young man said. Taking a huge bite, he continued with a full mouth. – "I assume he can't do anything either, though I'm not sure. I wouldn't say I know him very well."

Gibbs felt his heart break all over again. What the hell was wrong with Senior? He had a wonderful son; he should cherish him and be proud. Instead of that, he had dumped the kid as soon as his mother had died, and had sent him away to different boarding schools just to be rid of him. Was it a wonder the young man couldn't believe someone would care about him and never trusted anyone!?

"I'll teach you all I know." – He offered, even if he feared it might be too little, too late. He'd have loved to have Tony as a son, growing up with him, but there was nothing he could do about it now. What he could do on the other hand… - "What's going on, Tony? Please, tell me. I need to know." – He wasn't exactly pleading, but was as close as it came with Gibbs.

Tony must have felt the man's desperation, because – having finished two slices of pizza by now – he leaned back and took a deep breath.

"You have to understand, I can't tell you much; even you don't have the necessary security clearance to know everything. But the short version is: it's not over yet. Never was. It's just more hidden now to satisfy the President."

Gibbs had expected to hear many things today, from Tony being on drugs or meds (Ducky thought it entirely possible by the look of the boy's eyes and the constant fatigue), to him being sick or depressed or even anorexic (his frame and lack of eating suggested that).

What he hadn't expected to hear in a million years was exactly what had just been said. And Gibbs wasn't surprised very easily.

As it was, he was surprised now, and he still couldn't believe this could be true.

"What's 'it' that's not over yet…?" – He asked, hoping against all odds it wasn't what he feared.

Tony had the audacity to roll his eyes.

"The undercover work, of course." – He said simply. – "Did all of you really think that having the President a bit mad, saying a few threatening, angry words would change anything?" – He looked almost pitying, as if he couldn't believe anyone could be that dense. – "Come on, Boss! This is the CIA we're talking about! They operate in the whole world; they won't be scared of the President of one country."

Gibbs shook his head, still in denial.

"No, no. This can't be because Gray retired. He's gone."

The senior field agent smiled sadly.

"He neglected to tell me that little detail when he threatened me _and_ you all again, right before sending me back to DC. I learnt it from you. But then McGath soon turned out to be just his puppet. Boss, retirement actually suits Gray pretty well: he's the master of the strings and he'll never be caught because he's not the one signing the papers anymore. He can remain in the background and that's exactly what he's doing. I don't think this could have turned out any better for him, to tell you the truth."

"But _how_!?" – Gibbs asked in disbelief. – "You're at home now and CIA doesn't operate domestically." – Tony's sarcastic snort confirmed his worst fears. – "Does it…?"

"No… Not exactly. But they do handle major international incidents with US ties." – Tony explained. – "I'm a drug addict." – He declared out of the blue, causing Gibbs to nearly choke on the beer he was drinking.

"WHAT!?" – He asked as soon as he'd stopped coughing. They'd been afraid of that… What should he do now…? What-

"Okay, not me, Boss, don't worry. But Toby DiNillo is. Heroin, Cocaine, Meth… anything you want."

"Jesus…"

"Yep. Hence the red eyes and gaunt expression. Part of the act."

"But DiNozzo, you're destroying yourself!" – Shouted Gibbs, jumping up and wishing he could punch something. Or someone. Preferably Gray. – "Are you really taking drugs…?"

Tony took a moment, thinking about the best way to answer the question.

"Most of the time, no, I'm not."

" _Most of the time_?" – Repeated the team leader.

"You know how undercover work is… sometimes doing things is inevitable to maintain your cover…"

"Tony!"

"Don't worry, Boss. I'm taking precautions."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"That means there are some… substances… that make you look like you're high. Everything else is just acting and a good portion of exhaustion and starving. Otherwise, should I be forced to take drugs, I have a special kind of pill that I could take afterwards that would minimize the effects."

"But this hasn't happened yet?" – Clarified Gibbs, looking horrified.

"Thankfully not. I'm good at what I'm doing. So far, nobody has suspected me. But it's more difficult now that I have my NCIS work and I'm here in the US. I always need to look out for cameras that could capture us working on a case, naming us as federal agents in newspapers or whatever… Just imagine what that would do to my cover, should they see me on front page! I'd be dead right away."

The team leader paled at the mere thought.

"I will stop this."

"NO!"

"But-"

"No, Boss, listen: you already did all you could and I'm infinitely grateful for that; it means a lot that you guys care. But it didn't do me any good, just made my life even more difficult. Don't misunderstand: I'm glad to be back. But now I have to worry even more about you all then before. Let me do it my way."

Gibbs shook his head.

"Your way seems to be just to let them use you, DiNozzo!" – He said. – "This has to stop once and for all!"

"I agree but not like this! What I'm doing is important; it has to be finished. Dozens of agents have been working on this case for years and now we're close to solving it!"

"Did you say 'we'? You consider yourself one of them!?" – The NCIS team leader couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was just a nightmare, wasn't it?

"Right now, I am, whether I or you like it or not, Boss."

So, it wasn't a nightmare. It was real…

"Tony…"

"Boss, please, promise me to let me do this. Don't tell anyone about it."

"But Jenny could-"

"No! She couldn't. The only thing she could do is get herself fired. Or worse: murdered. She'd just accidentally get dizzy and fall out of an open window or suffer an unfortunate but sadly inevitable car accident. These things happen daily! I won't be responsible for the deaths of my family!" – The younger man insisted. – "And you don't want that either, believe me. This is the CIA!" – He repeated his earlier argument. – "Their strength is in the fact that they have support everywhere in the world. I want to know that you, Jenny, Fornell, Timmy, Ziva, Ducky, Jimmy and Abby are all safe! Even my father and your father and everyone else's families!"

"I can't promise you that. I won't leave you alone with that mess!"

Tony huffed in desperation and anger.

"You still don't get it!? I'm risking my life and may very well get myself killed in the process to keep you all safe! And you would just ruin it all because you can't take for me to be in charge for once!"

"This is not about who's in charge! Gee, this is not me being afraid you'd take over the team! By all means: do it! But for that you need to be alive! Tony, this is about me having your six!"

"No, this time _I'm_ having _your_ six, Boss! Let me do this!" – He knew he was pleading pathetically but he couldn't care less. This stubborn man had to understand what he was trying to mess with. – "I'm this close to get what the CIA's been working on for ages! This drug cartel has killed hundreds of young men and women already; they need to be stopped! And when it's done, the threat will be over too! And I'll be free with you all safe and sound! Hopefully nobody else will be none the wiser either."

"Or you'll get another 'irrefutable offer' to become a sleeping agent for them somewhere far away from us with a fake identity we can never trace! That is, of course, if you live long enough for that at all." – Gibbs was shouting by now and seconds away from starting shooting.

"I know the risks!" – Insisted Tony. – "I know what I'm doing! It's nobody else's business, Boss; not even yours!"

"It is! _You're like a SON_!"

Gibbs suddenly stopped, pale and panting heavily. Tony slumped in his chair, exhaustion catching up to him rapidly. Neither of them knew what to say, so they silently washed the plates and put the rest of the pizza into the fridge.

It wasn't until half an hour later when Tony was getting settled in Gibbs' guest room that had somewhere along the way become his, when he finally talked again.

"Just promise me not to tell anyone and not to do anything. Please, Boss, this is important."

Gibbs was pulling up the blanket to cover his senior field agent whose eyes were already half closed from exhaustion. At least, for tonight, he could make sure the young man was safe. But what about tomorrow?

"How could I just leave you on your own?" – He asked, tucking the agent in.

"You'll have to."

"Fine. I'll respect your wish, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

"I'm not. Thanks."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

The next day, predictably, Ducky apologetically informed Gibbs that his senior field agent was medically unfit to be in field, given that not only wasn't he looking any better than before, but his eyes were so bloodshot that it was a miracle he was even awake at all. The team leader took this declaration with more resignation than anyone would have expected, and even Tony didn't fight when he was sent home. If this weren't unbelievable enough already, Gibbs and Tony seemed to have a complete and complex conversation just by staring at each other intently for minutes before the young man disappeared in the elevator to leave the building. The boss remained silent during the whole incident and refused to say anything to a concerned Ducky or to his curious teammates.

As a matter of fact, he didn't say anything that wasn't work related for many days to come.


	16. Tony, Where Are You?

True to his word, Gibbs had respected Tony's wish and hadn't said anything to anyone about what was happening. Ever since the young man had been sent home by Ducky on that fateful day, the team leader hadn't been able to reach his agent at all. The boy wasn't picking up his phone (they'd really need to have a talk about Rule #3 soon!), and whenever Gibbs visited, he wasn't at home either.

First he had thought the young man just didn't want to acknowledge him but then he picked the lock and went inside – only to find that the apartment must have been empty for the last couple of days at least. There was no food in the fridge, no sign of life at all, as the plants were dried out and Tony's beloved goldfish, Kate, was missing altogether.

Remembering that Abby had taken the pet while Tony was 'dead', he had asked her about it now as well, but the Goth had only shaken her head.

" _I gave Kate back to Tony when he came home, Gibbs. Why?"_

" _Nothing. Just wondering."_

He already knew the checks were taken care of by the bank each month, so there was no point in trying to trace back any payment on mortgage or utilities. He wouldn't find anything.

Talking to the janitor hadn't helped much either.

" _I barely see that boy as it is, Agent Gibbs. You work him way too hard if you ask me. No, I don't remember seeing him lately at all… Why, is something wrong?"_

" _No, everything is fine, Mr. Brody. Thank you for your time."_

" _No problem. When you talk to him, tell him to take better care of himself, all right? Kid was looking sick the last few times I met him on the corridor…"_

So, he still didn't know anything about the whereabouts of his senior field agent, and Gibbs was beating himself up more and more for leaving the kid alone for even a second. Tony was prone to accidents; everyone knew that. It figured if someone was to be kidnapped by the CIA and recruited for a dangerous undercover assignment, it would be no one else but DiNozzo. Damn it!

'Tony, where are you!?'

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Jethro, I can't reach Tony! I've been trying his cell for days and I even went to his apartment last night and nothing! I don't think he's been there for a while."

Gibbs sighed.

"I know, Jen."

"What do you mean, you _know_!?"

Gibbs felt very uncomfortable having to tell the director he'd been withholding information about the boy they both loved as a son.

"I mean I've been looking for him too. He's gone."

She gasped.

"And you haven't thought it important to tell me that because…?"

"Because I couldn't."

"You… _couldn't_?"

"No, I couldn't and I still can't."

"Need I remind you that while we're undoubtedly friends, and… maybe even something more…" – That was true. They had been kind of a couple in secret ever since they'd had to mourn Tony together. – "… khm… but I'm still your director and if you know something about the disappearance of an agent under my command, you are obliged to tell me!"

"I know. And still: I can't tell you."

"This is unacceptable."

"It is what it is."

He could practically see the thoughts running through her mind, and knew the exact moment she came to a conclusion.

She quickly said:

"Look, I'm asking as a friend, not as his director: where is he? I just want to see him, make sure he's all right. Or at least will be with time and professional help…"

So, Gibbs had been right. The director thought Tony had been taken to a hospital by him and/or Ducky as they had promised they would do if needed.

"Jen… I don't know. I hope to God he will be." – He said, not quite lying but also not telling the entire truth, namely that he didn't have an idea where their boy was and that the only thing he was sure of was that he wasn't seeking any kind of assistance, professional or otherwise.

"I want to see him with my own eyes, Jethro!" – She continued to insist, having none of his nonsense. Tony was as much her 'child' as his, for God's sake, she had a right to know what was going on with the boy!

"So would I, Jen. Believe me. So would I…"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Jethro, I haven't heard from our Anthony ever since I was forced to send him home… I get it; the boy is probably angry with me right now but shouldn't he have tried to requalify instead of pouting? That's really not like him! Especially when just a bit of rest and regular meals should do the trick. You'd think NCIS is more important to him than that!" – Doctor Mallard's ranting made it quite clear for everyone that he felt guilty about what had happened with Tony, though he still stood by his decision that he hadn't been able to do anything else.

"NCIS is the most important thing for him, Duck." – Said Gibbs with absolute conviction.

"Then why, pray tell, would he not do everything to come back?" – The ME asked desperately. – "I should have taken him home. I should have sent him to a hospital. I should have-"

"Duck, stop it. You did nothing wrong and Tony knows this."

"I'm not so sure about that, Jethro. If this were true, he would at least answer his phone when I call him…" – The doctor seemed older than ever before. – "I didn't want to hurt him! But I couldn't let him slowly destroy himself… I thought that forbidding him to work like that would prompt him to take better care of himself."

"We all thought that. You know, Duck… I have never thought of myself as naïve…"

"Naïve? You, Jethro? Impossible."

"And yet, sadly: it's not."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

As he left, he had an inkling that the good ME hadn't believed him when he had said it was nothing. The profiler in the man had probably already started to think of possible reasons his friend would say that but Gibbs was sure he would never guess the entire truth.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

It wasn't long after that when the team leader was cornered by Abby, McGee, Ziva and Palmer in the elevator. This time around, Ziva hit the emergency stop button and the four effectively trapped their leader (in Tim and Jimmy's case quite shakily so but their friendship with Tony was important enough for them to risk getting gutted by their boss).

"Gibbs, we need to talk with you about Tony." – Began the Mossad liaison, looking at the others, waiting for their affirmation.

Abby nodded.

"Yes, Bossman. We each have tried to reach him and we even went to his apartment. Gibbs, he's not there!"

Gibbs sighed.

"I know, Abbs."

"Ahm… Agent Gibbs…? Do you also happen to know where he is?"

"Palmer…"

"Ahm… I tried the papers… You know, like last time. Nothing."

"I didn't expect there to be, Palmer."

"Oh."

"Boss… What do we do now? Why would he disappear like that?"

Gibbs had no idea what to say to his people to make them feel better, especially when he himself was suffering from worry and guilt. He wasn't a man of many words and glaring (his specialty) certainly wouldn't help in this situation. Only Tony – his loyal St. Bernard – understood and accepted his silent support; nobody else. That was because nobody else was like Tony. None even came close, though he loved all of them.

They – yes, even Abby who knew him best after Tony, Jenny and perhaps Ducky – just stared at him, waiting for something, anything, that he would say to assure them their friend was all right and would come back soon enough.

But how could he when he wasn't sure of it?

In the end, since they couldn't remain in the elevator forever, he cleared his throat and decided to go with the version of the story he had told Jenny.

"Tony has… some problems to sort out. And for that, he needs to be away for a while." – He said, thinking this was true after all, and he, at least, wasn't lying. Misleading perhaps, but… well.

"You mean… he's with doctors?" – Guessed Ziva, trying to understand what her boss was saying. Maybe it was her broken English, or just the way Gibbs had expressed himself, but she wasn't entire sure he had meant that.

"I can't tell you anything, Ziver." – It had been too much already, thought the team leader, though he wouldn't say it out loud.

The others seemed to take it as confirmation and actually looked a bit relieved. There was no denying they thought Tony needed medical care. Ziva, on the other hand, still looked to be a bit suspicious as they got out of the elevator and went to their respective work places.

Gibbs prayed his unspoked promise would come true and Tony would come back to them in one piece; rested and happy.


	17. You Have a Family

Sometime around the middle of next week, Tony stumbled into Gibbs' basement, looking like he had been run over by a truck – twice.

He sank onto the workbench and doubled over in pain, gritting his teeth in the effort of keeping himself from screaming out.

Gibbs, who had been working on the 'surprise' – which was actually starting to take shape, not that Tony was paying attention to it right now – when he saw his senior field agent the first time after all the worry he had put them through over the past few days by disappearing on them completely.

"DiNozzo!" – He exclaimed, running to the young man's side. – "What happened?"

"Arrrgh… Boss… I… grrr…"

"I'm calling an ambulance." – But Tony grabbed his hand, preventing him from reaching for his cell.

"No. I'm fine."

Gibbs had to fight to urge to start cussing.

"Not that word again!"

Tony smiled despite himself.

"Sorry, Boss."

"Don't apologize, DiNozzo."

"I know. A sign of weakness…"

Gibbs helped the young man up the stairs and into his room (he had stopped thinking about it as guest room ages ago), towards the bed so that he could lie down.

"Care to tell me what happened to you?" – He asked, trying not to panic at the dark bruises he saw on the boy's chest and back when he made him take off his shirt.

"It was a test." – Tony answered simply, wincing as his friend poked and prodded his injuries experimentally. – "To prove my loyalty. But I passed with flying colors and now, I'm second in command, Boss."

"And?"

"And…? And I'll be able to gather all evidence like this easily!"

"Fabulous. What's the idea for when you die prematurely?"

"Very funny, Boss. Ouch!" – He hissed as Gibbs yanked at his burnt arm.

"Do I want to know what you had to do to achieve this stellar status?" – Asked the Boss while trying to assess the situation with his limited medical knowledge, deciding whether or not he would need to call an ambulance even if the stubborn man protested, or if he could deal with the injuries himself.

"Probably not. It involved 'killing' someone, though I only scared them away. I wouldn't kill an innocent, Boss!" – Tony assured unnecessarily, groaning some more. – "It's enough if they think I killed."

Gibbs nodded absent-mindedly, having concluded that he needed Ducky's expert opinion on the matter. He was already dialing, listening with half an ear to the labored breathing of his senior field agent while waiting for the other man to answer.

 _\- Jethro? What is it? Are you all right?_ – Came Ducky's half-awake reply. Gibbs quickly looked towards the nightstand where he had placed Tony's watch; it was near midnight and they'd had a very long and tiring day.

\- Duck, I'm sorry for waking you but could you come to my house?

 _\- Of course… Do I need to bring something?_

\- Yeah… your medical bag.

 _\- Jethro… Is everything all right…?_

\- No. Please, hurry up. And Duck: it needs to be confidential.

There was momentarily silence on the other side while the ME tried to process the fact that his friend was asking for medical help from him, a pathologist, when he might be in serious trouble.

 _\- Jethro, you do know that I work in autopsy, right? Maybe you need a practicing doctor…?_

\- Duck, just come!

 _\- I'll be there in half an hour._

Without saying any more, Gibbs disconnected the call and tossed his cell to the side.

"DiNozzo…? Tony! Just hold on! Help is on the way."

"I… arrg… don't need… ahm… help… I'm… good. Well, I'll be…"

"Shut up, DiNozzo. It's just Ducky."

As previously promised, Ducky soon arrived and all but ran upstairs where he heard Gibbs' call come from. He couldn't imagine what to prepare himself for…

Whatever he had thought he would see, he certainly hadn't expected the sight of Anthony DiNozzo Jr. sprawled out on the bed wearing only his boxers, looking as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life.

"Dear God, Anthony. What happened!?"

"It's a long story, Ducky…"

"I have time, my boy."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

It hadn't been easy to convince Tony to fill Ducky in, but in the end, he had relented, acknowledging the fact that he needed to older ME's cooperation if he didn't want to end up in a hospital, and if the man didn't know why it was so important for him to fly under the radar, he wouldn't let the matter drop. In the end, after an exhausting explanation, during which his injuries had been taken care of (quite painfully at that), Tony was fast asleep in the bed, while Ducky and Gibbs were talking in hushed voices downstairs in the kitchen.

"I can't believe it's still not over, Jethro."

"I know, Duck."

"I also can't believe you're letting this happen!" – There was a certain amount of accusation in the older man's tone of voice.

"It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" – Gibbs defended himself. – "Anything I do could jeopardize his cover and endanger his life. I don't know where he stays when he's not here and I don't know whom he's with. If I have him followed or tracked and they find it out… Then I might as well kill my own agent, Duck!"

"That's true… But I refuse to accept that there's nothing we can do!"

"I don't want to accept that either. But I don't know what to do and he begged me not to do anything…"

Ducky shook his head.

"Wow. That's a first. You not knowing…"

"Thanks, Duck. I feel so much better now." – Answered Gibbs sarcastically, glancing up at the ceiling where above them, Tony was sleeping. – "I feel trapped." – He admitted probably for the first time ever in his life.

"That's quite understandable under the circumstances."

"I want to help him so much, and I don't know how!"

Ducky thought for a while.

"Have you tried asking him?"

"He doesn't want help, Duck! He has made it clear enough!" – Answered Gibbs in frustration. – "That's the whole problem, isn't it!?"

"Maybe not with his operation. But what about with his life?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean have you asked whether he wants to know about his friends; his family. Whether he needs help keeping his apartment now that he can't use it. Or how he's coping with coming back from the 'dead'? If everything is all right? Or even where his beloved fish is?"

Gibbs was flabbergasted. He had actually never thought about any of these, even though, admittedly, this could help spare the young man some of the stress that he was definitely under.

"You're right, Duck. I guess there are things I can help him with…"

With a father who hadn't even cared when his son had 'died', Gibbs knew very well that they were Tony's only family. He would do everything in his power to make sure the young man knew he wasn't alone with all these.


	18. Enough is Enough

It was one month and a week later when Tony appeared in Gibbs' basement with serious injuries – for the third time. The team leader groaned in frustration, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? The stupid, stubborn boy wouldn't listen to him anyway, just like he hadn't the first two times either.

He speed dialed Ducky, who was, sadly, expecting calls like that by now. He only confirmed he'd be there in half an hour with his medical bag, and disconnected the call with a sad sigh.

Tony was led upstairs into his bedroom and the boss gently helped him undress and lie down.

"I'll be right back with a wet cloth, Tony. Try to stay awake, please." – With that, Gibbs hurried into the bathroom, hating to leave the injured man alone even for a second. By the time he came back, the (suspended) senior field agent was fast asleep, having succumbed to exhaustion against his boss' instruction. – "Come on, DiNozzo!" – Gibbs gently patted his head in a mock head slap. – "Just because you're officially not working for me right now, it doesn't mean you can just simply disregard any of my orders!"

The younger man slowly opened his green eyes, and stared up at his team leader.

"Gotcha, Boss."

"Good. Will you tell me what happened?" – Gibbs asked, while he started to check Tony's ribs. Ducky had taught him to always begin with that, to make sure there weren't any broken ones endangering the already scarred lungs. That could be fatal.

Tony winced at the poking but didn't complain. He also knew the drill very well by now having had opportunity to get used to it.

"Not much to tell. There was a problem with one of the deliveries and the guy got cocky. I needed to take care of it."

"What 'delivery', my boy?" – Inquired Ducky who had just arrived. He opened his bag and fished out a stethoscope to listen to Tony's heart and breathing.

"Drugs, Ducky… Ouch!"

"Sorry, Anthony. But whenever I hear you talk about drugs so casually, my hands start to shake and I can't control them…"

"A warning would be nice next time… Besides, you did ask… Argh…"

"Hmm… Your heart is beating a bit erratically."

"Pain tends to cause that, Ducky… Hey!" – Complained Tony as his head was slapped. – "Boss, I'm injured already, do you need to give me a concussion as well?"

"Not that there'd be a big difference, so shut up, DiNozzo, and do as Ducky says!"

"As I was saying…" – The ME continued, now taking the young man's temperature. – "… your heart is racing and I don't really like the sound of your breathing either. I hope I don't have to remind you how important it is for you not to get pneumonia on top of everything else, my boy!" – He scolded. – "Hmm… Temperature is also a bit elevated. How have you been feeling? I mean, apart from the obvious injuries."

"Just a bit tired, nothing serious." – Tony answered dejectedly. Seeing Gibbs raising his hand as if to slap him again, he quickly added. – "I swear, Boss! I haven't been sick!"

The team leader's hand came to rest on the nape of his neck with a gentle squeeze.

"Well, it looks like you're developing something now, DiNozzo."

"A nasty cold, probably." – Said Ducky, and moved on to check the most recent injuries, causing Tony to wince and hiss again as the doctor moved his hands over his torso, expertly repeating Gibbs' earlier examination. – "Luckily, nothing seems to be broken. But I'd feel better if an X-ray confirmed it…"

"No!"

"I know… I suppose you still won't tell me where you currently live?"

"Sorry, Ducky… Impossible. But don't worry, my apartment is taken care of." – He assured. – "Boss even makes sure it's cleaned once a week. And Abby has Kate again. If she takes as good care of her as last time, she won't fit in her aquarium by the time I'll get her back… I swear, I don't know what she feeds her with…"

"I wasn't exactly worried about your apartment or goldfish, my boy, but all right. Then at least tell me if the place if properly heated?" – It was winter after all, still freezing, and snow had been falling constantly for the last couple of weeks. With Tony's history of sickness, he really didn't need to be in a cold, damp place.

The sheepish look and silence from the senior field agent was answer enough.

"Damn it, DiNozzo!"

"Sorry, Boss. Not exactly my choice though."

"When will this madness finally end!?"

"Hopefully soon. Actually… ahm…" – Tony shot a meaningful look towards Ducky who took the hint and having already bandaged the bruises, excused himself to make some tea. As soon as they were alone, the undercover agent continued. – "CIA's planning a raid soon. My job is to lead all the important criminals, all those on the top of the food chain, to the agreed location. They trust me, so it shouldn't be a problem, but…"

"But? I'm listening, DiNozzo!"

"But it won't be here." – He admitted.

"Here, like… In DC?"

"No, here like in the US…"

"DiNozzo, I swear to God, if you disappear again, I'll head slap you into next week!"

"I'm sorry but I will have to. I'm flying to Europe first thing tomorrow…"

"The hell you are!" – Shouted the lead agent, angrily jumping up and starting to pace. – "We just got you back from there!"

The shout had alerted Ducky who came running back upstairs and was now standing in the door, trying to figure out what had angered his friend so quickly. Usually, Gibbs was much more reserved than that, though, admittedly, anything having to do with Anthony DiNozzo had the ability to rile him up pretty easily.

"That's why I told you I'm going away! But I won't be able to contact you for a while, Boss, and it's not my fault! My life could depend on my cover not being blown earlier than absolutely necessary!" – Argued Tony. – "I have earned my place here and the right to travel to the 'center' of all activities! I can meet those who are behind this all. I need to get close to the big boss as well, make him trust me, which shouldn't be too difficult with my reputation. I'll gather evidence, lead him to his capture… Then it could be over for good! If we catch them. And we will, that's what I've been working and risking everything for!"

"It's enough, Tony! It's been going on long enough! Just look at you! You're half dead already and now you want to go away to do something even more dangerous!? Are you crazy, boy!?"

"Jethro, please-"

"No, Duck. This has to end once and for all!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

"Clearly, DiNozzo!" – Spat Gibbs sarcastically. – "You just look like you do." – With that, he turned and left the gaping young man and sad ME with the clear intent to work on his project in the basement so that he wouldn't have to see and hear this nonsense anymore.

Tony looked down and fumbled with the blanket.

"He hates me, Ducky. He hates me…"

"Oh, no, my dear boy. He's just worried." – Assured him the old doctor, patting him on the shoulder. – "And so are we all, to tell you the truth."

"I know that. I'm sorry. I'm doing it for you guys though."

"I just wish there were something _we_ could do for you."

Tony shook his head.

"But there's nothing, Ducky."

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

True to his word, Tony left early the next morning, leaving only a short written note for Gibbs about how he was thankful for everything and he hoped they'd see each other soon. The handwriting was even sloppier than usual, given that the senior field agent's right arm had been dislocated and set the night before. It must still hurt a lot, thought Gibbs as he was reading the message with a heavy heart. He shouldn't have left the young man alone the night before. Who knew if he'd ever have the opportunity to make it up to him?

'Damn, DiNozzo, I don't even understand what you're doing to me…'

Gibbs had no idea how long he'd been staring into space but it was probably a while. When his cell started to ring he answered it without looking to see who was calling.

\- Gibbs.

 _\- Jethro? Where are you? You have never been late! Is everything all right? Your team is worried…_

\- Jen? Yeah, yeah. Everything's just peachy…

 _\- Jethro… Do you know anything about Tony? Something you're not telling me?_

\- Why would you ask me that? Why now?

 _\- Because you've been behaving unlike yourself lately. And now you're late… -_ Gibbs looked at the clock; it was well after eight already. This had really never happened to him before. – _You've also been very distant with me ever since…_

\- Since…? Jen, I… There's been a lot going on.

 _\- With Tony..._ – It wasn't a question.

\- Yes. Well, I'll get going now. Should be in the office in twenty minutes.

As he started to get ready for work, he knew things needed to get back to normal soon, or they all would go crazy and the CIA would win. They were taking away his whole family.

Tony was God knew where, in a danger he didn't even want to think about.

Ducky was concerned; having seen the young man's injuries he had probably a good idea what was going on even if he had only been told bits and pieces from the entire story.

Jimmy, Abby, McGee and Ziva didn't stop asking about their unavailable friend, their thoughts with him all the time, sometimes even distracting them from their everyday work which, in turn, was also dangerous for all of them.

And Jenny… His relationship with Jenny was something special; he felt now just like he had back then with Shannon, ages ago. None of his other wives had even come close to this. And now he might be losing her because he couldn't stand to be with her and not being able to tell her the truth about their boy, so he avoided her as much as he could. He knew he was neglecting her and hoped he could make up for it as soon as they'd have Tony back with them safe and sound.

'Come on, Tony. End this nightmare and come back to us. Enough is enough and we have all suffered sufficiently already. I want my family back!'


	19. All-Or-Nothing

Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr, or according to his CIA-supplied fake passport: Toby DiNillo, couldn't even remember what it was like when his only concern was whether or not he had brought Abby the adequate amount of Caf-Pow or if the Boss would be satisfied with his findings in a case they were working on. It was so nice when he didn't have anything more to worry about than Ziva's half-funny, half-mean teasing or the Probie's upcoming book and the embarrassment it would cause to all of them.

He was currently in a hotel room in Budapest, Hungary, preparing for the 'grand finale' as 'CIA Gray' had called it. Tonight, everything would come to an end. The only question was: would he like the result or not?

He wished he could enjoy the beautiful city he had been staying in for the last week, for Budapest was truly exceptional; he could see that even in his dire situation. With River Danube cutting the city into two, one side of it was a flat terrain (this was where Tony's hotel was) while the other one was hilly, giving him an extraordinary sight from the window right at the Buda Castle. He felt like he could stare at it for ages especially in the night when it was artfully lit. He wanted to take long walks on the Andrassy Street or in the enormous City Park and forget about all his troubles. He'd like to just admire all the flowers of early spring and their sweet scent that filled the air when he was near them. While the temperature was mostly still chilly, you could already particularly anticipate the approaching warmer days.

Sadly, it wasn't allowed; not for long that is. He didn't have the time to play tourist when he was expected to bring down a drug cartel. So, while in the first few days he had been able to indulge in a bit of sightseeing and had even visited the Parliament and strolled over the Széchenyi Chain Bridge, right now, as he was standing in front of the full-length mirror in his hotel room checking over his attire to make sure he was fitting the part, he wasn't thinking about the Fisherman's Bastion or the Heroes' Square with the Millennium Monument. No, he was thinking about his chances to survive this evening to see another day and he didn't like the answer that immediately came to mind.

'Not good…' – He admitted to himself. – 'Not good at all…'

With a last resigned sigh he adjusted his tie so that it was sitting perfectly, and exited the room, feeling as if he was walking towards his doom.

'Boss, if I ever see you all again, I promise I'll never leave your side anymore.'

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

"Oh, Jethro, I thought we were never going to do anything together again! I'm so happy that we're here, as a couple." – Said Jenny smiling, as Gibbs filled her glass with wine. It was usually not his drink of choice but this evening he wanted to do something special for her, so he had arranged for a dinner in their favorite diner and had even ordered a bottle of good red wine.

Tony's situation was of course still weighting heavily on him but – sadly – he couldn't help the young agent right now. He could help his relationship though that had been slowly falling to pieces lately. He wouldn't let Jenny Shepard go. Not this time around; he had made that mistake once before and he'd be damned to make it again now that by some miracle he had gotten another chance from fate.

"What would you like to eat?"

"I think…" – She leafed through the menu even though she knew it by heart already. – "… maybe chicken strips with French fries and ketchup. You?"

"Hmm… Probably taco."

That was them. A cheap diner with simple street food; no fancy restaurant or anything that required he wear a tie. Luckily, they both enjoyed the same relaxed style after the work they did every day and didn't desire to dress up and act all elegant and classy.

They ordered the food and helped themselves to some peanuts while they waited.

"I miss him." – She declared out of the blue. – "I hope he's all right." – Gibbs didn't need to ask who she was talking about. He leaned back on the seat and looked down into his lap. He hated making her believe Tony was safe and healing somewhere but he also didn't want to ruin this beautiful evening by showing concern.

"He better be. His surprise is ready: a TV stand with DVD storage. It can fit hundreds of disks and a huge flat-screen television with a player and speakers. He wouldn't want to miss it."

"That's incredible. He'll be so happy!"

"It's for his room in my house. He always complains there's no TV…"

"He will appreciate it very much."

"I hope so, Jen. The home cinema system was a fortune. You can't imagine the prices! But everything to entertain him, otherwise, he's dangerous…"

She narrowed her eyes.

"But he's not dangerous now, is he…? I mean… where he is. They don't let him…?" – She probably saw his hesitation to talk about this particular topic because she gently reached across the table and took his hand into hers. – "I'm sorry. We agreed not to speak about work or colleagues. Although Tony is more… but still. Sorry."

He was saved from answering when their food arrived and the rest of the evening was spent talking about Paris and old times; fond memories and even some sad ones. Everything and anything that didn't involve their missing boy.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Tony had checked the meeting area to assure Balázs Kovács, the Hungarian leader of the whole cartel, that the coast was clear. In reality, he knew the CIA was close, waiting for just the right opportunity to strike.

The entire assignment had come down to this hour. The hour that would decide his future as well. He had spent many weeks working himself up on the ranks so that he could learn who the leader was. When he had finally found out it was a small, middle-aged Hungarian man whose English was so poor he almost didn't even understand it, he had nearly laughed. Who would have thought? All the time the CIA had believed it was the Russians pulling the strings from behind the scenes just to learn it had nothing to do with them! How anticlimactic…

Naturally, Tony had quickly discovered that Hungarians, while certainly not looking it, could be just as dangerous as their Russian counterparts… And he had made this discovery quite the painful way. Anyway, here he was now, having quickly become the right-hand man of the big boss, and convinced him they could proceed with today's business… that there was no danger of them to be exposed.

"Where is the buyer? When come?" – The boss in the expensive Armani suit asked, glancing at his golden watch impatiently every few seconds as if it would make the time fly faster. – "We not have time!"

Tony made a show of checking his own watch, too; just as impatiently.

"He should be here in five minutes." – He said.

This didn't make the boss as happy as it was supposed to and Tony could hear him whisper frantically in Hungarian with his son, Tamás. The son that had been his second until Toby DiNillo had come and taken his place; the son who now, in turn, hated Toby DiNillo with a vengeance and would shoot him without thinking if given permission. Luckily, for now, Tony was protected by his status on the boss' side. But how long would it last?

Tony was actually very good at picking up foreign languages and had already decrypted some Hungarian words during the time he'd spent with them here. He knew from those and from their tone and rapid speech that father and son were getting nervous and suspicious, so he was very happy to see a black car approach slowly, flashing its lights three times just as they had agreed as a signal.

"He here." – Said Tamás Kovács unnecessarily and started towards the car. Tony quickly grabbed him and pulled him back, just as the boss hissed _"Állj!"_

The young man looked questioningly at his father for explanation but it was Tony who finally said:

"They'll come here. Chill out, _Tomi_!" – The young man hated that nickname and flashed his teeth threateningly at Tony. The NCIS agent just smiled innocently back at him before ignoring him altogether.

After about thirty seconds the two front doors of the car opened and two men stepped out. The driver wore a black leather jacket and dark sunglasses, even though the sun had long set. 'The bodyguard, obviously.' – Thought Tony. The other man was older with thick gray hair under his hat and a long black coat. He was smoking a cigar and blew perfect rings into the air. He also had a suitcase which he held up protectively with two hands. Both men took a few steps forward but stopped about 10 yards from the group.

"Did you bring it?" – Called the man in the suit who was obviously the leader.

Balázs Kovács nodded for Tony to take charge, just like he had expected – and hoped – would happen. So far so good.

"Yes." – He saw the man nod and formed another round 'O' of smoke that curved in the air elegantly before he threw the cigar away with a careless flick of his hand. Tony knew it was his cue to start moving so he took a few deliberate steps towards the car and the two newcomers with forced calmness. When he was close enough, he continued. – "It's all in the trunk of the car that's parked over there…" – He pointed to the parking lot not far away from them and pressed a button on the car key so that the lights would flash a few times, momentarily illuminating the place he had been indicating. – "You can keep the vehicle as well." – He waved the key for the men to see. – "The money?"

The man swung the suitcase a bit, signaling that the amount they had agreed upon in advance was inside.

"First, I want to check the stuff."

Tony nodded.

"Sure thing." – He agreed, motioning for the men to follow him. He had known it would come; who wouldn't want to see the quality of the drug they were buying for a small fortune!? Especially since these were all new, synthetic substances that weren't even illegal in most countries just yet – since nobody even knew about their existence –, so they were ideal to be sold in discos and high schools to unsuspecting youngsters who just wanted to get 'high' without getting into trouble. This was the real reason Tony had agreed to do this new assignment for the CIA after his success in Germany with the previous task: he wouldn't be able to ever forgive himself if he didn't do everything in his power to stop this ring of criminals from killing teenagers and twenty-something young people all around the word with their poisonous chemicals.

'Designer drugs', as they were called by authorities, posed the newest threat in the US and during his short time home he had discovered that these particular brands originated from Middle Europe. And despite what Gibbs might be thinking, it had actually been his call to come here personally. – "Here." – He opened the trunk, revealing numerous pills and powders stored in there, all neatly packed and ready for use.

"Are these all labeled as legal substances?" – Inquired the buyer.

"Yep. Herbals, mostly. These are…" – He indicated one pile. – "… bath salts and spice. They work like cocaine and marijuana." – It was true, these chemicals worked as drugs but were sadly even worse: users have been known to have suffered a number of negative health outcomes that included anxiety, seizures, hallucinations, loss of consciousness, and significant organ damage. These 'herbs' could act up to 50 times more strongly than cocaine, vastly increasing their potential for abuse and toxicity.

Tony was just happy he hadn't been forced to try any of them. Apparently, drug lords didn't expect their right-hand men to ingest the drug they were selling. It was probably too expensive to waste on lapdogs.

"And those over there?" – Asked the buyer.

"Ahm, Black Mamba and Banana Cream Nuke. All synthetic cannabinoids." – He clarified.

"Good, good." – The other man seemed satisfied. – "And I like the car too." – He added smiling.

Tony chanced a look behind to see Balázs Kovács and his son, with all their goons watching them, anxious to see the business come to a successful end. He turned back:

"Now the money." – He demanded, nodding towards the suitcase.

"Of course." – The man placed it on top of the now closed trunk and opened it carefully.

At that second several things happened at once: Tony, executing a well-practiced move perfectly, grabbed the gun from the suitcase that had been placed there for him, while the 'buyer' did the same with the other one. The driver, drawing his own previously hidden weapon, shouted 'Now' and dozens of agents jumped out from behind bushes and buildings. A wild shooting began but it was over very quickly; Much quicker than Tony had dared hope. The Kovács-team stood no chance against such a planned and organized attack, and soon Tony saw Tamás and three others go down in the firefight, while Balázs had been taken and placed into handcuffs not far from his dead son and accomplices, cursing loudly in Hungarian, no doubt promising Tony a very slow and painful death.

One man had somehow gotten away and Tony saw him darting towards him with clear murdering intent. He shot him in the chest but not before the man shot at him as well. He felt a stabbing pain in his left side and after that, saw everything in slow motion: the commotion ceased completely and he could hear alarms shrilling from all around them where cars were parking. He could see shreds of glass everywhere and blood pouring from the wounded people. He heard the sirens of the ambulance and the local police and saw CIA agents coming towards him with worry on their faces. They were saying something but he couldn't make out what it was. It sounded as if they were underwater. He briefly wondered why there were no bubbles coming out of their mouths…

After that, everything went blissfully dark.


	20. No More Secrets

When Tony woke next, he was a bit disoriented. He blinked a few times and looked around to find that he was clearly in a hospital, surrounded by white sheets and beeping machines. There was also a pretty young nurse checking his vitals who hadn't yet noticed he was awake.

He cleared his throat to get her attention without scaring her and said in a friendly manner:

"Did you know they say Hungarian women are the most beautiful in the whole world? I think they're right."

She quickly turned and upon seeing him look at her, she smiled, although clearly only out of courtesy, since she hadn't understood a word he had said. Tony had discovered on his very first day in that small European country that while their language sounded extraordinary and really one of a kind, the people here had trouble speaking or even understanding the most basic English. He'd had more success with his limited German during his stay here than with his native language. This had never happened before – outside of Germany, Austria and Switzerland, that is.

" _Hívom az orvost._ " – She said what Tony guessed meant she'd look for the doctor and disappeared.

He had been right because not long after that, a man in his early fifties wearing green hospital scrubs appeared, having probably just finished an operation on someone else. He seemed tired but very satisfied with the fact that his patient was awake and alert.

"Mr. DiNillo?" – The man began somewhat uncertainly.

"Actually, it's Agent DiNozzo, Doctor…?"

"Oh, I see; I expected something like that when you were brought in by... the CIA, is it? I've never thought they'd be here, in our little country… Anyway, I'm Doctor Mészáros." – Seeing the confused expression on the injured man's face, he smiled. – "Hungarian word for 'butcher'." – He explained.

"Your name's _butcher_!?" – Asked Tony incredulously.

"Yep. Or even 'slaughterer'."

"You must be kidding! A doctor with a name like that… Should I be afraid?"

"No, no. It's quite a common name here, but a source of endless amusement anywhere else, I'm afraid."

Tony chuckled, glad that he had found someone who not only spoke English almost perfectly but also had a great sense of humor. He could have easily ended up somewhere where he couldn't even ask for a glass of water, let alone his condition.

Speaking of condition…

"So, Doctor Butcher, what's the verdict?"

The man quickly scanned the screens and his IVs.

"Not bad, considering we thought we'd lose you for a while in the OP…" – Tony gulped. – "Your pulse and blood pressure are still a bit low but nothing to be worried about. You have lost a lot of blood; we had to give you a transfusion. Oh, and the bullet hole on your side will leave a scar I'm afraid."

"It's okay, chicks dig scars anyway."

"Hmm… I don't think I understand this expression entirely, but whatever. You were very lucky: the bullet really only grazed you and as such, missed all vital organs or anything that could be fatal. A bit to the right and… well, you get the picture."

"Gibbs… my boss… always says I have more lives than a cat."

"Just be careful. Even cats die in the end." – He paused for a while, looking at him contemplating. – "You know, we don't get much shootings here. Honestly, yours is the first bullet wound I've ever treated, and I've been a doctor for over twenty years."

Tony was impressed: this must normally be a very peaceful country then.

"It's nothing unusual for us, Doctor Butcher."

"You enjoy saying that, don't you?" – The man smiled, showing Tony he wasn't offended in the least. – "And where are you from?"

"Washington DC., US. When can I go home?"

"That's a long flight. You won't be up to it for a few days at least." – Tony seemed greatly saddened by the news. – "I'm sorry. But you did get shot…"

Oh, yes. That, he knew…

"Ahm… And then do you happen to have a computer with internet connection I could use…?"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Tony had sent him an e-mail! Gibbs couldn't be happier when he opened the message and read that his senior field agent had completed his assignment without any major catastrophes and would be back home with them within a week or so. Of course he suspected there was more to the story than the young man had shared – honestly, 'Everything went just fine' couldn't be right… not with his senior field agent who most of the time couldn't even start a car without blowing it up – but for now he was glad to have at least that much.

He all but ran up the stairs and entered the director's office without knocking, ignoring Cinthia's attempts to stop him and her exasperated huff when she realized that, once again, all her efforts would be futile.

"He's coming home, Jen! Our boy is coming home!"

"You mean he's completed the program…?"

"Ahm… well…" – He paused, thinking that maybe it was time to tell her the truth. Or at least a part of it.

"Jethro!" – She warned, sensing his hesitation to reveal more.

Gibbs took a deep breath and began:

"A 'program' is not exactly what he's been doing, Jenny. I think I'm allowed to tell you about it, since it's over now, but I only want to be telling it once."

She threw him a strict look that clearly said 'I'll deal with you later'.

"Let's gather everyone then." – The way she said it, he knew it wasn't a suggestion but a clear order.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

To say that the others weren't impressed upon learning about Tony's situation, would be an understatement; and they didn't even know about him being shot yet, since Gibbs hadn't been told either.

Fornell, who had also been invited to their little chat, was fuming.

"I'm going to kill Gray, I swear, Jethro! He's a dead man walking!"

"I agree. We can't let this go on! He can't do that to Tony!" – Nodded Ziva, her eyes radiating anger. – "He's _mailicious_!"

"You mean: malicious." – Corrected her McGee. – "And I agree. What are we going to do, Boss?"

" _You_ will do absolutely nothing, McGee." – Said Gibbs strictly and when he saw that Tim, Ziva and Abby all opened their mouths to argue, he held up his hands to quiet them. – "Tobias, Jenny and I are going to have a serious talk with him."

The director nodded.

"There's no reason to endanger all of your careers over this as well. If we all lose our jobs, Tony will never forgive himself. Or us."

"But, Director! Gibbs! You can't-"

"No, Abbs. We decided. It's final."

"Jethro is right, Abigail. It's okay. Everything will be fine now." – Ducky said soothingly.

Jimmy patted the forensic scientist's shoulder and assured her their friend would be all right.

"I mean…" – He said. – "It's Tony. He's always all right, isn't he?"

They all exchanged glances, hoping the medical student was right.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

The lead NCIS agent, the NCIS director and FBI agent Fornell strolled determinedly into Gray's house, followed by a handful of FBI agents with drawn weapons, ready to use them should it become necessary.

"Gibbs…? What's the meaning of that intrusion?" – The man asked indignantly, jumping up from the couch where he had been sitting in front of the television, reaching for the hidden weapon that he stored under it for situations exactly like that.

"I wouldn't if I were you, Bob." – Warned him Fornell. – "My guys don't like it when the suspects make sudden movements. Their hands tend to start to shake on the guns…"

" _Suspect!?_ What are you talking about? I'm not a suspect!"

"You're right." – Said Jenny. – "You're a criminal who stole my agent and forced him into a mission that could have taken his life. We don't suspect it: we _know_ it."

"That's unheard of! Are you crazy, madam director? I've retired, remember? I'm just an old man sitting at home and-"

"Oh, please." – Rolled his eyes Gibbs. – "None of us is that stupid." – The man looked like he would have liked to argue with that statement but wisely kept quiet.

The FBI agent stepped closer.

"You and McGath conspired to make DiNutso work for you. You threatened to kill his friends and their families. He felt trapped and went along with it just to save them. But it's all over now. You'll have to answer for your actions in court and we'll make sure there won't be any deal for you!"

Gibbs waved for the agents to cuff the man who – after turning to Fornell for confirmation – did just that, forcing the ex-CIA director's arms behind his back.

"Bob Gray: you're under arrest for blackmailing and threatening a federal agent, among other things. I told you before and I'm saying it again: Tony. Is. MINE. If you mess with him: you're messing with all of us and you won't like the consequences."

"But-"

"It's over, Bob." – Cut him off Jenny and Gray shot her a death glare which she completely ignored. – "You have the right to remain silent, so: shut up!"

The ex-CIA director was forcefully dragged from his house. They could hear his swearing all the way until he was shoved into a car and the doors were closed.

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

Six days later Tony stepped out of the airplane after an agonizingly long (and for him also somewhat painful) flight. The first thing he noticed was his whole 'family' waiting for him in the arrivals area. His heart jumped in joy when he saw their smiling faces and he walked (all right: limped) towards them as fast as his legs would carry him.

Of course his careful movement weren't missed by Ducky's keen eyes.

"Dear boy, what happened to you?" – He asked, worriedly checking the young man over.

"Ah… it's a long story; one I wouldn't like to start here. If it's all right with you…"

"Tony, you look horrible." – Determined Ziva after she had studied his eyes for a long moment, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"Gee, thanks, Zivaah… I knew I could always count on you not to sugarcoat the facts."

"Why would I do that? Isn't it better to be honest?" – She asked confusedly. Tony just smiled and shook his head in exasperation.

"You didn't get any better. You got worse." – Abby sighed. – "But no matter. Just come home and we'll make sure you'll gain back all the weight you've lost and you'll be your old self again."

Ah, the ever optimistic Goth… Tony loved her. And all of them.

He got hugs and many handshakes from everyone and didn't protest when a stronger squeeze hurt his chest. Jenny held him the longest, and whispered into his ear:

"It's over, Tony. Gray will never bother you again. I promise."

He hugged her back, and hoped they didn't notice how close he was to tears.

"Hey, Tony!" – Jimmy grinned. – "You know what? We've prepared a surprise party for-" – Abby elbowed him in the side. – "Ouch… What? Oh…" – The medical student blushed adorably, having just realized his mistake. Tim and Ziva rolled their eyes. Honestly, the boy was like an overeager puppy sometimes… – "Sorry… Just forget I said anything…"

McGee shook his head.

"Sorry, Tony. We wanted to see first if you're up to it. Not like… khm. You know: before."

"It's fine, McStammering. I can't wait!"

"Cool! Let's go then!"

 **NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS * NCIS**

A few hours later Gibbs and Jenny stood in the door of the room that Tony was using, gaping amusedly at the scene in front of their eyes: Tony was sleeping in the bed tucked in tightly; even asleep still managing to look exhausted and also somewhat in pain but still very peaceful. Next to him, Abby was curled up, snuggling close to her 'brother' as if she wanted to make sure he couldn't disappear without her noticing. Ziva was snoring softly on the other side of the bed but also halfway on top of Tony in a decidedly very uncomfortable-looking way. The director and the team leader knew very well they'd fight about this arrangement the next day just like they fought about almost everything like cat and mouse. But for now, both seemed quite content the way they were. Tim was sprawled out on the couch fast asleep. It seemed like he had deliberately pulled it as close to the bed as it would go, since he was now just inches away from the group on the bed. Jimmy, having taken the recliner Gibbs had put there for himself, was sleeping with his mouth hanging wide open and drooling slightly.

Jenny smiled.

"Jethro, would you have thought after Paris… after everything… that we'd end up with five kids together?" – She whispered lovingly.

Gibbs just gave her an exasperated glare that was betrayed by the sparkling in his eyes. With a last glance at the youngsters he very carefully and quietly pulled the door closed and turned to his partner:

"I'll need to build a TV stand for this room as well. I believe he has made it his home too."

"He's welcome any time. You can take the room's measurements tomorrow and I'll take care of the TV and home entertainment system."

"We're spoiling that young man too much."

"Yes, and you love every second of it, Jethro, don't try to deny it."

"I won't. So… It seems like the couch and recliner in Tony's room are taken for tonight." – Gibbs stated the obvious.

The director nodded.

"So is the couch in the living room and the guest room is also occupied." – She added, referring to the fact the Ducky had taken the spare room while Tobias had fallen asleep watching the muted version of a football game downstairs. – "I don't think my house has ever been that full."

It was true. They had chosen her house for the party exactly for the reason that this was the only place they could comfortably have so many people at once. Gibbs' home certainly wasn't up for it.

"I guess I'll just head home then." – He said finally, rather reluctantly.

"I can think of another place for you to sleep here." – She suggested winking.

"And where would that be?"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her own room, saying:

"We already his five kids, Jethro. There's no reason to keep our relationship a secret anymore."

Gibbs nodded.

"There have been enough secrets for two lifetimes already anyway."

 _The End_

 **AN: That's it, the last chapter. I can't believe that it's over! I will miss writing this…**

 **I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed/commented, favorited, followed or gave kudos on this work. It means a lot to know you like it.**


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